Heart's Journey
by N3GatorFan
Summary: When a possible stalker leaves an old photo of Henry and Jo on Lt. Reece's desk, she suggests they should go into hiding together. They initially object since they're newly dating, but they agree to it to save their lives. The case comes first, but will they give into what fate has in store? Set three years after 1x22.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_ : The concept, canon, and canon characters belong to _Forever_ creator Matt Miller and Warner Bros. Studios. All other characters, the plot for the story, and Henry's flashbacks are my own creation. I have posted my story here, and I don't profit from it. (Translation: I don't own _Forever_ , but if I did, we would be talking Season 5 developments now.)

 **Author's Note** : Hi! I originally had wanted to wait until I had written the full story for _Heart's Journey_ , but I decided to go ahead and post it now. I really want to it with you, and I thought that it is time to do it. The first nine chapters are either completed or mostly completed, leaving the rest of the story as a work in progress.

For those of you who have "accused" me of being "evil" during "Remember You Must Die and Live" (this one's sequel), this will have quite a few Jenry moments.

I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _Have I read the schedule correctly?_

Henry slightly shook his head as his gaze at the piece of paper on the bulletin board grew fuzzy. Surely, the receptionist in charge of determining the medical examiners' shifts must have placed his and Lucas' names in the box. He almost always had Sundays as his day of rest, but his other day off had frequently been during a week day. This could not be possible.

Yet, it was. On the document, the receptionist had omitted his and Lucas' names for both Saturday and Sunday.

His heart began to drum a rather maniac rhythm reminiscent of many modern bands, and his skin warmed under his coat. Although he was at work, his duties had long been forgotten. All that mattered now was his time off.

His lips tugged across his face and then up toward the sky. _About time_.

He sucked in his breath in an effort to calm himself. It had been a very long month, filled with autopsies which Dr. Washington should have conducted properly, paperwork, depositions, and testimonies in court. When he had visited Jo's desk with a cup of coffee, he had frequently been disappointed to learn that she was either at trial herself or had the day off, forcing him to leave a note describing his longing to see her again. On his days off, he strained to hear the phone's ring, and, every time that he or Abe would answer it, his heart had sunk when he had heard the voice of a potential customer or of Abe's assistant Sam.

Henry rubbed his tongue in his mouth. Today, he had learned from another detective upstairs that Jo had a spare weekend also. Perhaps he could take her for a day out on the town. He was eager to show her Abe's pet project from the past few months, and the Gloria Carlyle gallery in the National Museum was hosting a new art exhibition. According to the weather forecasts, the spring weekend weather was to be ideal for a very long walk or a picnic in Central Park. Abe and Fawn had discovered a film festival featuring movies from the youngsters' youth, and it was scheduled to run through next weekend. They could spend another day on the One World Trade Center Tower's observation deck and eat at one of the restaurants there. If Jo would rather rest, he could head to her townhouse in Washington Heights one day and treat her to a home-cooked meal and some hopefully delightful conversation.

"Morgan, move it! You're hogging the schedule!"

Henry snapped his head around and stared at Dr. Kirk Roberts. His cheeks warmed as he noticed his colleagues standing behind him. His eyes traveled to Lucas. He wove his way around his colleagues and joined the young man standing behind Drs. Washington and Vaughn.

He smiled to let his assistant know the good news. "You and I have the weekend off."

Lucas pumped his fist into the air. "Yes!"

His gaze met Henry's. "So, what do you want to do this weekend? Try to catch up on some reading? Autopsy rats? Go to Katz's with Abe? Double date with Tori and me?"

Only two of those options sounded excellent should Jo deny his request to allow him to distract her from her thoughts about work. "I was thinking about spending some time with Jo— _alone_."

"If you ask me," Dr. Washington's gruff voice interrupted the private conversation. "Your and Detective Martinez's relationship is entirely unprofessional. Perhaps it is why you prefer to play detective over improving your efficiency by focusing on your work."

"Wash, knock it off." Dr. Lebron stepped between the two rivals. "Morgan's not the one coming off a five-week suspension because he wasn't thorough enough."

Dr. Washington huffed, nudged Dr. Vaughn, and walked off.

Lucas twisted toward the two departing men. "That reminds me." He locked step after them. "Dr. Washington, you owe me some money!"

Henry's ears perked up. What was this about a bet?

He started after Lucas, whose long legs began to create an enormous gulf between the two official partners. The only set of bets that he could think of were the ones placed long before he had begun to interact with his colleagues. Ones which depended on the success or failure of his romantic relationships, and, specifically, his relationship with Jo. Was it possible that Lucas had wagered a substantial amount of money on the two people whom he had considered to be his friends?

A hand enclosed around his shoulder, forcing Henry to stop in his tracks. He spun around to see who had the audacity to intercept him. He instantly relaxed the moment that he caught sight of the tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed man standing just behind him.

"Haven't you made a bet before?" Dr. Jeff Newell grinned as he steered Henry toward the hallway and dropped his hand to his side.

Henry lowered his gaze. "I have." There were countless hands of whist with friends during his first year at Oxford. The lone time that he had gambled at Monte Carlo. Three months ago, when he had lost one to Jo and had to reluctantly eat a gyro for the first time in decades. "But never on people's personal lives."

He sighed. He had to allow the money to trade hands, whether he wanted to or not. Too much time had passed for him to say anything about it. Besides, a significant amount of cash had likely been won and lost the moment everyone had learned of his and Jo's new relationship.

The other medical examiners' chatter began to fade in the distance. Jeff slowed to a stop and turned around. Henry followed the other doctor's gaze. On the other side of the threshold, Tori and Dr. Cynthia Hawthorne, the newest medical examiner to join their ranks, conversed with each other, giggling and looking toward the two men. At one point, Cynthia stole a glance at them. Wondering who she could be looking at, Henry traced the path of her gaze and recognized that it was directed at Jeff.

Jeff's eyes glazed over, and his skin flushed. Henry stifled a soft chuckle. It appeared that another love affair was beginning to blossom in death's hostile soil.

"Jeff?"

The other man startled, blinked, and pivoted toward him. "Huh? What?"

Tori's voice drifted over them as they turned to leave, and she called Lucas' name. The two medical examiners looked at each other. Perhaps it was best if they left.

As Henry turned to leave, Jeff grinned. "I still can't get over the fact that we are work in-laws."

"Work in-laws?"

Henry slowly repeated, hoping to make some sense of the phrase. In his personal experience, a close working relationship had always rapidly produce an intimacy that transcended daily living. His courtship of Ann was a clandestine affair, leading everyone at Mercy General Hospital to wonder why he had become extremely distraught by her death at Nora's hands. He and Abigail had fallen in love at first sight while performing their jobs, and his affection for her had led him to actively seek out opportunities to be assigned to her as her attending physician, even after their wedding. And during his first year of working with Jo, he had become so captivated by her that he had found himself imagining them wandering the streets of Paris together. This, however, was new.

"I don't see how one can define work relationships in terms of matrimony and familiar relationships."

Jeff stared at him. "Yeah. Lucas and Tori are work spouses." At Henry's confusion, he continued. "Seriously, where do you live? In a cemetery?"

Henry chuckled. "No." His eyes met his companion's. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not much of a fan of pop culture."

Jeff smiled. "I have. If I didn't know any better, I would say that you are a time traveler from the 1800s who is stuck in our century."

Henry slipped his hands into his pockets and studied his friend's face. Was there a chance that he could reveal the truth—that he was really born in 1779 and had lived over 238 years—to Jeff?

"To catch you up on pop culture," Jeff's voice silenced Henry's thoughts. "A work spouse is someone who is a very close friend at work. If two single people are work spouses, it could lead to marriage."

 _Oh_. "I see."

Henry shook his head in amazement as they neared his autopsy room. Work spouses. Selfies for self-portraits. What would they think of next?

They entered the empty room, and Jeff's walk slowed as they passed the same table where his cousin's body had once lain. Henry swallowed at the circumstances that had brought the four of them together. Losses, especially those that could be explained by someone with psychiatric issues or homicidal intent, were never easy to deal with.

"I know that you had done everything that you could to save Brent's life." Jeff sighed. "It's still unsettling to think that the both of you were kidnapped and targeted for death."

Henry bowed his head as he stopped just outside of his office. As gut-wrenching as it was to make the decision to tell Jeff about those two days of captivity and the subsequent aftermath without revealing the full truth, it was liberating to know that Jeff had learned what his cousin's final hours were like. "It is to me as well."

"Do you believe that there is more to life than this?" Jeff nodded toward the autopsy room while easing past his colleague.

"I'm not necessarily a believer, but sometimes I do entertain the idea of an afterlife." They settled down in the chairs. Henry studied the small picture frame on his desk. The thought of his friends' and loved ones' souls continuing elsewhere and waiting for him to join them—if that possibility existed—were, until recently, equal parts comfort and torture. Now, it primarily provided a sense of hope that he might be able to see them again if his life were to come to an end as miraculously as it had been extended.

He swallowed his emotions and turned back to Jeff. "How about yourself?"

Jeff pulled his lips together and then offered a small smile. "I can't imagine our lives ending when we die. Or, at least I hope they don't. It would be great if Brent and I could be reunited after my own death. There is so much that I want to tell him."

He grew silent for a moment and then chuckled. "I even believe that it is possible that someone can come back to life…maybe even repeatedly."

Henry raised his eyebrows. What tradition was Jeff raised with? "What do you mean?"

"You know the stories about zombies and vampires?"

Henry braced himself. He had heard those theories when he had confirmed Lucas' guess that he was immortal. _Please don_ _'t let Jeff be another one_. "Go on."

Jeff leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "As much as they make the coolest ideas for TV shows and movies, they have to come from somewhere. Maybe someone saw another person return to life, and the story grew when people couldn't come up with an explanation for what they have seen."

Henry folded his hands on the desk. It was quite a plausible idea. Someone could have seen one of Adam's, or even possibly another immortal's, death and had inadvertently sparked the legends.

He looked back at Jeff and rolled his tongue in his mouth. One day, he should say something about his own immortality. With what Jeff had revealed, it was possible that the man would believe him immediately.

Lucas and Tori's voices filtered into the room. A moment later, they appeared in the threshold, engrossed in their conversation to the point of being almost oblivious to their surroundings.

As they strolled past the area, Henry's eyes trailed them. To be honest, he was slightly jealous of the couple. Unlike Jo and himself, Lucas and Tori had the benefit of working in the same place of employment, leading to increased chances to see each other on a regular basis. As a result, they had been able to further their relationship. In contrast, he and Jo hadn't progressed much further than where they were last month.

"Thinking about Detective Martinez?"

Henry's head started to float at Jeff's question. He grasped the desk and hoped that the other man would not notice.

Jeff shifted his weight and leaned forward, almost as though he were ready to assist him if necessary. Henry sucked in some desperately needed air and weighed his options. He certainly didn't want him and Jo to be the subject of any more office gossip. Yet, the thought of being away from her for this long was too distressing.

He released the desk and waved a hand in the air. "I'm okay." He briefly glanced down at his desk before looking at the man. "And to answer your question, yes."

Jeff grinned and leaned back slightly. "I've been meaning to ask, but how long have you two known each other?"

Henry returned the smile. "We've known each other since 2014, but we have become a couple only recently."

"How did you meet?"

Henry's gaze drifted to the table where he had started his work on the engineer of the ill-fated train that had carried him and 14 more victims. "The previous lieutenant upstairs had sent her to challenge my findings in the Lincoln Center Station crash. The moment that I first saw her…."

Once again, he could hear her "How so?", see her flash her badge, and hear her introduce herself. He could not take his eyes off her. The only times where he had felt the need to look elsewhere were when his scalpel began to grow heavy in his hands and reminded him of his task.

He softly chuckled. "I don't know how, but I swear that Jo's materialization had prompted me to uncharacteristically cut into the engineer's body a second time."

Jeff nodded. "I don't think I've noticed her then. We had so many bodies to tend to." He sighed. "It's a good thing that the police's suspect killed himself. I don't want to think about what would have happened if he had carried out his plan."

It was Henry's turn to nod. He had replayed the possibilities of what would have happened if they had never learned Hans Koehler's plans in time on multiple occasions himself. Surely, Koehler's release of aconite would have killed him and many passengers within Grand Central Station, and he and Abe would have left New York the moment that his colleagues would have discovered his condition. Fortunately, he had been granted the mercy to continue his life in the city for four years now.

"So, I take it that you and Detective Martinez know each other quite well?"

The question jarred Henry out of his memory, and he glanced down at his desk to regain control over himself…and for the question to register in his mind. "I believe so." They had spent quite a bit of time together over the past few years, and, once his secret was revealed to her, it was natural for them to share intimate details about themselves. He was sure that he knew her as well as he knew himself. "What makes you say that?"

"The way that you get along with one another. It's almost as if—."

The memories of his and Jo's relationship danced before Henry and drowned out the rest of Jeff's statement. As each moment passed, his drumming heart shifted in his chest. He longed to rush upstairs, find her, and spirit her away from her duties.

His legs tensed. He needed to do that now. It was a long wait until the weekend.

Reminding himself of his duties, his eyes traveled to Lucas' MetroCard hanging on his lamp. "It seems as though Lucas and Tori are becoming serious. They had been spending quite a bit of time together recently."

Jeff grinned. "What if they really become spouses? We would be in-laws of sorts then."

Henry's eyes darted around the room. "What if indeed?"

Staccato clicks filled the air. Henry wanted to look away from his present company to see who was coming to visit him. Yet, his parents' constant admonishment to pay attention to their guest echoed in his mind and kept him focused on the man who had decided to investigate the sound.

"Speaking of which," Jeff twisted back around, pushed himself out of his seat, and stepped toward the door. "Here comes your work spouse."

Henry snapped his head up. _Huh?_

The alluring fragrance of coconut and frangipani overpowered the room's musk, sulfur, formaldehyde, and disinfectants and beckoned him to seek out its source. The room brightened the moment Jo crossed into the gap between the autopsy tables and his office.

"Hey." Her soft, mellow voice enticed him to abandon all thought of work.

He pushed himself from his seat, sped around his desk, and closed the distance between them. Not caring about the reason for her visit, he slipped his hands around her waist. His smile widened. "It's been a while since we have last seen each other."

"Tell me about it." Jo wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and his knees nearly gave way under him. "Don't get me wrong. Your notes are sweet, but they're not the same as seeing you."

He gazed into her eyes. How he had missed her. Too much time had passed between them. "How was your month?"

She pulled him closer to her. "Wondering if everyone at the DA's office had conspired to try our cases from late last year all at once." She looked behind her graceful shoulder, almost as if she was expecting someone to appear in the empty room and hallway. "Wanting to slug a defenseless old man."

"I hope you don't mean Abe." Henry raised his eyebrows and gave her a look which implied his hopes that she didn't mean him either.

She chuckled. "I meant Dr. Washington." She sighed. "I hated Abe's responses every time that I called the shop to see if you were home."

"I hated it when Abe relayed the messages that you had called and when the patrol officers and other detectives told me that you weren't here." A strand of her hair dropped across her face. He released her long enough to brush it back. "This makes up for it."

He swallowed back the lump in his throat. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but Jo needed to know. "Unfortunately for us, Dr. Washington had returned yesterday. Hopefully, he won't chase away the new assistant medical examiners."

She huffed. "Wouldn't it be great if Dr. Lippmann would fire him?"

"It would be the answer to the prayers of almost everyone in both the NYPD and OCME."

Her eyes searched his. "How was your month?"

"Aside from the seemingly endless procession of trials, depositions, and autopsies?"

Jo laughed, ringing through the deathly quiet room and bringing it to life.

He drew her closer to him, and their momentum sent them into the glass wall bearing his name and title. "I haven't felt this free in centuries. It's almost as if recent events had discovered the grave of my 35-year-old-self, uncovered its body, breathed life into it, and introduced it to my present life."

 _Concerning recent events_ …. He grinned. "My appointment with Kimberley went surprisingly well, and I no longer have to see her again unless it is voluntary. Which likely will never happen. I finally told Fawn and Karen my life story—."

Jo laid her hand over the scar on his chest. "Mike told me about Karen's reaction." She chuckled. "Seriously? Your typing skills gave you away?"

"It wasn't the first time. That honor goes to Liz Chamberlin when she had first confronted me." At least Karen also had believed the online version of the newspaper article featuring his rescue of a young boy in 1865. "Other than that and Abe and Fawn seeing each other more frequently, things have been quite dull for me."

He licked his lips. "What are your plans for this weekend?"

Her eyes widened and then softened. "I'm not even going to ask you how you knew that."

The left side of his mouth tugged up. "A Detective Winston had flagged me down and told me that you had time off."

She grinned. "Then, I don't know. Do you have some time off?"

Her fingertips grazing his nape threatened to untie the string keeping his more passionate impulses tightly bound to a sense of propriety. "The entire weekend. I was thinking about the two of us spending some time together."

"Sounds good to me." Her eyes begged him to take her far away from her house. "What have you have planned?"

"I haven't decided yet, but I will let you know by Thursday." That should give him enough time to settle on a plan. Perhaps he could discuss his predicament with Arturo when he would go to pick up his new suits at Paul Stuart today or with Abe later tonight over dinner. Either man advice could provide him with an idea of how to proceed.

His eyes traced the contours of her exquisite face, cataloging every detail as though he might not ever see her again. The moment he reached her slightly parted lips, they beckoned him like a siren's song. His heart shifted, generating an electrical current which jolted the hairs on his arm upright.

"Get a room, you two!"

Jo spun toward the door, causing Henry to crane his neck around her. Before he could get a look at which attendant had called into the room, the man had vanished.

They shared one more lingering look before she bit her lower lip, pulled her arms away from him, and started for the door. As he joined her side, the hibiscus-like scent filled his nose. He narrowed his eyes. The smell wasn't one that he had noticed before.

"New shampoo?"

She turned to him, her hand grazing his in the process. "The store was out of my usual one." She scoffed. "I had to get another brand, and this was the closest to what I like."

"It smells nice."

Another whiff, and a warm, tropical breeze filled the air. The fading sunlight dancing on the ocean waves paled in comparison to the woman walking next to him along the beach. The warm water of the Pacific Ocean gently lapped at their bare feet, pulling away as it sensed each languish step. Every so often, their joined hands brushed against the graceful knot tied in Jo's sarong.

They stopped, and he slipped his hand out of hers and reverently set both of his hands around her waist. His eyes traveled from the hibiscus resting over Jo's left ear to first her glowing eyes and then to her glistening lips. The shine and her perfectly-formed face wove a spell over him that was efficiently and rapidly eroding his resistance.

Finally surrendering his control to her magic, Henry began to lean in toward her….

"Coming through!"

The squeak of the wheels and Carl's cry dissolved the scene and forced Henry to look around the room to see where he was. Jo remained by his side, yet the walls and sounds of the OCME surrounded him as if they had never vanished.

As the attendant pushed a gurney with another body toward Dr. Nate McNamara's autopsy room, Henry reached into his pocket and fingered his watch. This was neither the time nor the place to entertain his flights of fancy, no matter how pleasant they were. He was at work, and his mind needed to be on the task at hand.

Speaking of which….

"Why are you here?" He removed his left hand from his pocket and waved it near her. "No offense."

She grinned. "None taken." She sighed. "Lt. Reece didn't say, but she wanted to speak with the both of us."

Henry squinted. He could quickly rule out a case. If it had involved someone within New York's social elite or the NYPD, she would have already stepped foot in the morgue. On a similar note, either Jo or one of his colleagues would have immediately informed him of a body of a regular citizen. Whatever the true reason was, it was serious enough to call him away from his other work.

He puffed his cheeks out and blew out some air. He would find out soon enough. He didn't know which he would rather have: dashing to the hospital to be with his son after an accident or a robbery or dealing with a certain 2,000-year-old psychopathic immortal's latest threat to his family and friends. If it were in his control, no one whom he cared about would have to face either.

Jo's hand fingered the wrist of his coat. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and allowed her to wrap her slender, petite hand around his.

"Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

He gazed into her eyes, hoping to gain courage from her strength. "Do you think so?"

She ran her free hand over her hair. "Honestly, I don't know, but I'm here for you in case you need it."

As they approached the elevators, Henry noticed Lucas leaning against the wall and talking to Tori about their weekend plans. The seed of jealousy that he had possessed earlier revived and matured into an uncharacteristic envy. Whatever was disconcerting to his unofficial superior was threatening to ruin his and Jo's own plans.

Jo lifted her head. "Lucas!"

The young man spun around, his jaw dropping in the process. "What?"

"Lt. Reece needs to see you." Jo released Henry's hand and waved at Tori.

"Now? Can't it wait?"

Henry suppressed his surprise at Lt. Reece's request to see Lucas as well. "Lucas," he warned. Over the past four years, if there was one thing that he had learned about either of his female colleagues, it was that one did not mess with them when they were serious.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Okay." He turned to Tori. "I guess that I will talk to you later."

"Sounds fine with me." The black-haired woman leaned forward and kissed Lucas on the cheek.

Lucas gaped at Tori as she strolled past the trio. Henry laid a hand on Lucas' shoulder and steered him toward the door.

Lucas' eyes darted from Henry to Jo. "So, what is this about?"

Henry turned from Lucas to Jo. That was the question of the hour.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This will be the most overt reference to "Remember You Must Die and Live". The story will be mildly referenced a couple of more times, but this one is pretty much a stand-alone.

The phrase "work spouse" is really a term! And, yes, it does mean what you think it means! "Work in-laws", however, is my own creation.

According to most historians and bloggers who write about the Regency era, those who were interested in becoming doctors as we know them first studied to become surgeons at either Oxford or Cambridge, then became an apprentice in an apothecary, and then apprenticed at St. Bartholemew's in London. Once they completed all three apprenticeships, they could call themselves "doctor" in the modern sense of the word and be treated as such.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jo huffed as she proceeded into the bullpen. She could have kicked herself for not keeping her mind on her assignment. She hadn't been like this when she and Sean had started to date. In fact, she was able to keep it together the entire time throughout their relationship and marriage. Why was it so different with Henry?

Admittedly, though, she hadn't realize how much she had missed him until the moment that he had seen her and had rushed out of his office to join her. The few stolen moments in the OCME had been far too short for her. And her stomach clenched at the thought of being unable to spend more time with him this weekend.

"Finally!" Mike wended around a pair of desks and joined the small group. "About time you two showed up! I thought that I was going to have to go downstairs and round you up again."

Jo opened and closed her mouth. "It was only one time." She waved her index finger in the air.

"And it was my fault for not asking her how much time she had before she needed to report back to work." Henry placed his hand on her back and moved toward her official partner.

She smiled as her mind drifted back to that cup of coffee. Although neither of them had spoken a word to each other once they had entered the OCME's break room, every second together had been enjoyable.

Mike squared his shoulders. "After the past month, I thought that you two—."

Jo gasped at his suggestion. "Mike!" She leaned forward and hissed, "How can you—?"

Strangely, Henry remained silent at the possibility of her honor being sullied. Jo dared to look at her boyfriend. Sure enough, Henry was shooting Mike one of his murderous glares.

Jo bit back her laughter. That look, perfected over the course of two centuries, was enough to scare Abe and Lucas into submission…at least temporarily. From the looks of Mike's quickly closing mouth, it was having the same effect on Mike once again.

"Am I going to be a fourth wheel, or aren't we supposed to be in a meeting with Lt. Reece?"

Lucas' question brought Jo back to her senses. _Right. I had almost forgotten about Lieu_.

She led the group toward Lt. Reece's office. The moment that she laid her hand on the knob, her body tensed. If she were to enter the room now, she and Henry wouldn't be able to sit back and enjoy themselves this weekend.

She pushed back her sigh. Still, if Abe were injured, she and Henry had the right to know. After all, she had come to care for both Morgan men since the first time that she had seen Henry's hand resting on Abe's shoulder while in the middle of their chess match. If something were to have happened to Abe, she wanted to be by his—and his father's—side. At the same time, if Adam had called in a threat to Lt. Reece, they needed to know what it was so that they could prepare for his next move.

Gathering her courage, she opened the door and poked her head in. "You wanted to see us?"

Lt. Reece raised her head from her paperwork. "You have the OCME contingent of this team?"

Jo craned her neck and shot Lucas a warning look before turning back to the other woman. She nodded her confirmation.

"Close the door behind you."

Jo pushed it open and headed for the two plastic chairs in front of Lt. Reece's desk. She studied the model of the Space Needle and the map of Manhattan behind her superior. For a while, she had begun to believe that Dr. Washington's lack of thoroughness had single-handedly brought her and Henry's partnership, and possibly their romance, to an end. Now, her boyfriend was back where he belonged…by her side as her unofficial partner.

Lieu looked past Jo. "Henry, you're acting like a sailor who has just returned home from a very long voyage."

The warmth of his body near hers and the faint ticks coming from his pocket watch chased away almost every thought about work. If she had her way, she would take him by the hand and lead him to the nearby park so that they could be alone.

He moved to her side, generating a wave of cold air behind her and a lonely ache within her. "It is amazing to have things finally return to normal."

Jo's eyes focused on Lieu as they took their seats. Although they had a bigger mystery to solve, she was becoming more certain that Adam was not a part of it. If anything, the glint of worry in Lieu's eyes hinted that the reason for the meeting was Abe.

The sensation of Henry's eyes on her coaxed Jo to steal a glance at him. When she saw his slightly pale complexion, her heart skipped a beat. She reached out, wrapped her hand around his, and squeezed it. Whatever the future held for them, they would face it together, just as they always had.

Lt. Reece's eyes darted from them to their official partners. She glanced back down at her desk and sighed. She tugged a manila envelope out from a stack of papers and removed its contents. She stared at it as if she could discern the answers from it.

She finally held it out and waved it in the air. "I found this on my desk this morning. Honestly, I don't know what to think of it."

"May I?"

Henry reached his hand out, took the picture, and examined it. The muscles in his jaw drew taut, and he pulled his lips together. A moment later, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"What do you remember about the victim?"

Jo cocked her head. " _Remember about the victim?_ " _What? Abe_ _'s safe?_

Henry handed her the photograph. She opened her mouth at the sight of her in her dress suit, her hair pulled back in a tight bun and her head slightly tilted toward the photographer as she entered the edge of the frame. She bit back her laugh. She had generally lost the bun after a few years in the detective division. She had worn it only a few times afterward, mainly when it was too hot or if she had to testify at trial or for a deposition.

Wondering why Henry reacted the way he had, she scrutinized the object in her hand some more. She let out a gasp when she saw the image of him squatting beside the victim in the lower left corner. His profile was in full view of the photographer and now her.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. She didn't remember seeing Henry at the scene. As far as she was concerned, the train crash in 2014 was the first time that they had worked together. Why didn't she notice him then? Surely, she would have remembered his voice, his detailed description of the victim's death, or even his clothes.

Henry shifted in his seat. "The victim's name was Dexter Chapman, age 35. A couple out for a morning stroll found his body on the rocky promontory near Summit Rock in Central Park on June 29, 2009. We estimated his time of death to be between 8:45 and 9:15 in the morning."

"We—?" Mike's question nudged Jo around in time to see a raised eyebrow.

"Dr. Talbert Ross, the medical examiner whom I had worked with from my arrival at the OCME the year before until his retirement, and my subsequent promotion, in 2011."

Jo twisted back toward Lt. Reece and bit her lower lip. She had heard a couple of stories about the man from Henry, and she had once been sent to challenge him when she had first become a detective. She had been embarrassed when she had learned that he was right in his findings then. She now saw that the only person whose knowledge about death had rivaled—and superseded—Dr. Ross' was his assistant ME's.

Lt. Reece trained her gaze on him. "What did you find?"

"A minuscule amount of bilateral overhang from Dexter's work as a homicide detective—."

"Homicide detective? He was one of us?"

Henry nodded as Lieu pursed her lips.

"Generally speaking, other than that, he was a perfectly healthy male. No signs of defensive wounds anywhere in his body. No enema or congestion in any of his organs. No fractures of the hyoid bone or petechiae. No traces of illicit substances in his system. The only thing that Dr. Ross and I had discovered on the body was a 9 mm wound in his chest over his left breast in the same location as my scar."

Lieu folded her hands in front of her. "9 mm. That sounds like a gun."

Henry shook his head. "We couldn't find a bullet. We then suspected that Dexter's fatal wound was created by either a stiletto or a hat pin."

Jo stared at him. "A stiletto? As in the woman's shoe?"

Mike raised an eyebrow. "A hat pin? Seriously?"

Henry pivoted himself so that he could face both speakers. "The stiletto takes its name from the sword bearing the same name." He licked his lower lip. "As for the hat pin, the foot-long accessory was a Victorian woman's equivalent of pepper spray or mace. If a woman were to stab you in the eye or the heart," he pantomimed the motions. "It would lead to death. Quite a painful one too, I might add." He crossed his legs and laid a hand on his lap. "Hat pins became so dangerous to men and women alike that many cities began to regulate their length or ban them altogether. By the start of the Roaring Twenties, women's fashion drastically changed, leading to the demise of the accessory."

Jo sucked in some air. _Please don_ _'t tell me that a woman stabbed you with a hat pin while seeing you try to make it home after one of your awakenings_. "You ruled Dexter's death as a murder?"

He bowed his head. "I had believed so, but we ruled it as suspicious. As far as we knew, the weapon was never recovered." He tilted his head. "Because of the relative lack of blood at the scene itself, Dr. Ross and I also speculated that Dexter had been killed elsewhere and his body deposited in Central Park."

She nodded. Both theories made sense.

She looked back at the image of the two of them. Maybe she and Henry had arrived at the scene at different times. Someone could have taken the pictures of both of them separately and then pieced them together on their computer recently. It would be the perfect explanation as to why she didn't remember Henry being there.

"Jo?" Lieu's voice beckoned her. "What do you remember about the case?"

She closed her eyes and tried to remember. She shook her head. "I remember getting a call to the scene and seeing a group of onlookers watching it. I stepped toward them and ordered them to leave the area. Eventually, they dispersed. Other than that, my mind is a complete blank."

"Do you remember talking to anyone about it?"

Jo shook her head. "Nope, sorry. I can't."

"How about Dexter? Have you ever worked with him before?"

Jo narrowed her eyes. "I don't remember working with him or seeing him at a scene…ever." She sighed. "Then again, I haven't thought much about that period of my life since…."

She bit her lower lip. Not since Sean had died. Not even when they had looked deeper into the fatal heart attack that had taken him from her.

Her image beckoned for her attention once again. Once she had buried him, she had pushed aside that period in her life when she couldn't dull the memories of him in alcohol or men. All of those good moments had been too painful for her to think about. After she had met Henry, he had encouraged her to fully remember her short time with Sean, and he had been there for her when the ones from the day before Sean's death flooded back with a vengeance. There were still parts of her and her late husband's relationship that she couldn't remember now…and she wished she did.

Mike leaned over the chair. "Let me see that."

Jo gave Mike the picture. Her attention drifted back to Henry's profile. If the photo was real, then how many times have their paths crossed in the past without them realizing it? How many times have she guarded the OCME's work at the scene of a death without paying attention to the people assigned to it? How many autopsies had he conducted for her without looking at the name of the detective requesting it? How many times had they passed each other in the NYPD's and OCME's joint hallway without ever catching each other's attention?

"This definitely isn't Photoshopped."

Jo snapped her head around at Lucas' statement. Both men stared at the picture, studying it like they would for a test.

 _What? It_ _'s real? Just like the 70-year-old photo of Henry, Abigail, and Abe that I found years ago?_ "How can you tell?"

Lucas lifted his head and grinned like a maniac. "To the trained eye—like mine—certain things throw it off completely. Generally, very bad lighting or stitching gives it away. At other times, a person's eyes can appear to be too white, or a woman's lips can look too luscious to be true." His hands rose to his lips, and he pulled them away as he spoke. "When I doctor a photo for one of my films, I try to be very careful so I can make it look like the event did actually happen."

Mike looked down at the couple and raised an eyebrow. "Really? You two didn't recognize each other when you met?"

Jo shook her head, and she sensed Henry doing the same. "Nope."

Henry pulled in his eyebrows and slowly released his breath. "May I see the envelope?"

She pulled her lips together. What had he seen?

He turned the document over in his hands. "This was hand-delivered to your office before you had begun your day."

Lieu straightened her back and stared at him. "How do you know that?"

Jo squeezed her chair's arm. Hopefully, Adam wasn't behind it.

Henry waved the envelope in the air. "A plain manila envelope without a postal stamp suggests that it had originated from outside the building. Your name is typed onto a label, not handwritten. Whoever had left it had taken great care to conceal his or her identity from all forensic analysis. They also would have needed access to your office as you tend to lock your office door before you leave in the evenings. I would say that they left it while you were out for a cup of coffee."

Jo trained her sight on the object. "Is it possible that Adam could have left it for her? He _is_ quite proficient with a computer, especially for an ancient immortal, and it won't be the first time that he's done something like this."

She briefly closed her eyes. The last time that she had seen Henry, shortly after Mike and Lucas had left their dinner party to give them some time together, she had told him of Adam's work at the 11th Precinct. At the time, Henry wasn't worried about it, but, now, she hoped that he hadn't brushed off her concerns.

Henry offered her the envelope. "I wouldn't be surprised if he is considering something like this. However, he prefers to do things with a bit of flair to attract our attention. It would be highly unlikely for him to use an everyday occurrence like typing to taunt us."

Jo nodded. Adam always preferred to hand-write his taunts and leave them in Henry's office for him to find. The few times that he had changed his routine, he had called Henry or her and either arranged a meeting with Henry or warned her of the consequences of being around the two immortals.

Just as she took the envelope to hand it back to Lt. Reece, a piece of paper slipped through the opening and fell out onto her lap. Jo picked it up and swallowed at the typed message.

She gingerly handed the note to Lieu and averted her gaze to the edge of the desk. If it were possible for the day to get worse, it already had.

"If the NYPD and the OCME know what is good for them, they would stay away from this case."

The ominous words, in Lieu's voice, almost stopped Jo's heart. She was used to receiving death threats, and she had confronted several people who had intended to kill her before. At the same time, she had seen Adam threaten Henry's life in New York on multiple occasions, and suspects and distracted drivers constantly endangered Henry's secret. Yet, this was different. This was the first time that they had no idea who was presenting a danger to them or why.

Lt. Reece looked back at the note and then at the quartet in the room. "I want you all out now." She then looked at Henry and Lucas. "Henry and Lucas, don't leave the floor."

Jo swallowed. This could not be good.

* * *

The floor's hustle and bustle faded into the background, leaving only the sound of Jo's heart pounding in almost perfect sync to the ticks of Henry's pocket watch. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall beside her desk. If only she could sneak in a few minutes' rest, she might be able to find a way out of their predicament.

Her legs fell toward the ground and landed on a bony edge, sending a jolt through her body. She opened her eyes, and she immediately spied Henry's bent knee under her leg. Her mouth opened and then tugged into a slight smile. She had always seen him with one leg crossed over the other or with both legs sticking straight out and his ankles crossed. Yet, his current posture made him look much younger.

Her smile built. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that he had been alive for 238 years. There were days when he acted and sounded like he had been born in the modern world.

Her eyes traveled up the man. Her smile faded, and her heart dropped at the sight of his elbow propped on his other knee, his knuckles covering his mouth. The light and peace in his furrowed eyes were growing dim. In its place, the world-weariness that she had seen in him when they had met began to grow stronger.

She swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise up in her. Was she watching him emotionally die all over again? The first time that he had, Nora had claimed that he was insane when he had told her about the events aboard _The Empress of Africa_ and about his first awakening. From that moment on, he had viewed his life as a curse, and he had spent a good part of it trying to find a way to end it. Over the past few years, though, Jo had seen him revive, wake up to the world around him, and begin to live life again. After everything that had happened last month, she was sure that his new lease on life would be permanent.

Her heart wrenched itself into a knot. If only she could find a way to reach out and grab his hand to keep him from sinking in his anguish. She would give anything, do anything, to keep him as the sweet, charming, caring, enthusiastic, passionate guy that he was.

Henry shook his head, blinked himself out of his thoughts, and dropped his hand. He turned back to her. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She found his other hand and squeezed it. "In case you've forgotten, you're not the only one who is worried about whether you have to leave your life here behind today."

He flipped his hand inside of hers and returned her squeeze. He studied their joined hands for a moment and then offered her a small smile. "Thanks for the reminder."

She gazed into his eyes, and her pulse calmed as the darkness that was starting to overtake him was slowing its advance on his face.

"But I'm more worried about you."

She stared down at the leg resting beside Henry's knee. She hadn't considered that.

She dared to turn back to him. "How about your thoughts?"

He heaved a sigh. "I'm contemplating who could have known that you had continued your employment here in this precinct and mine downstairs. Weighing the benefits and liabilities of several options." He averted his gaze. "Wishing that I had more options to consider."

He lifted his head. "Just so you know, what I had done when I had been confronted with Abigail's mortality isn't one of them. Going through that once in a lifetime is more than enough."

She nodded. "I'm glad of that." Seeing Adam use his role in Abigail's death against Henry had been terrifying. For a while, Jo had considered that her partner was not the same man whom she had come to know. Had it not been for the two gunshots in the Fort Hamilton Station's abandoned tunnel, she would have arrested Henry and ended their partnership right then.

Henry leaned back against the wall and interlaced his fingers between hers. Her eyes darted from their hands to him and mirrored his posture. This new version of him was going to take some time to get used to.

She bit her lower lip. What options were he considering? Judging from his words, several of them had to include her. She couldn't even begin to imagine what they were.

The bend in Henry's knee delighted her. She raised her eyebrows. "Crossed-legged?"

He flashed her a lopsided grin. "Believe it or not, I'm quite comfortable."

"Really? You?" He waited for her response. "You're usually so refined, even when you're sitting down."

He softly chuckled. "I've been doing this all my life. I haven't had the privilege to do it much." He glanced out at the officers migrating between the various rooms, almost as if he were a sailor scanning the horizon and smiled. "Given the traffic, I wanted to remain out of the other officers' way as much as possible."

His eyes glazed over, and he smiled as his hand slightly slackened. "When I was younger…."

As he quietly described his childhood, the rest of the world fell away. She envisioned him in his little tailcoat, vest, shirt, and breeches walking through a manor—much like the ones that she had seen in _Pride and Prejudice—_ and into a field. Although he didn't say anything about it, there almost had to be a book tucked under his arm. He encountered his friends who begged him to play with them in the common. After some convincing, he dropped himself down on the ground and crossed his legs under him as he eagerly waited for the game to start.

"No, you don't understand." Mike drowned out Henry's dulcet voice and cut through her imagination. "If we are very, very lucky, the coaches will arrange the batting lineup in that order."

"That will never do. You and I both know that the Yankees don't have that decent of a bullpen this year. If we want to be in the Series…"

She glared in their friends' direction. She was really enjoying Henry's story. Why did they have to interrupt it?

The two men froze in their tracks and looked at the door. Following their eyes, she craned her neck around Henry in time to see Lt. Reece appear in the threshold of her office. She motioned for Mike and Lucas to come in. She scanned the room until her eyes fell onto the couple on the floor.

Jo reluctantly released Henry's hand and pushed herself off the floor. Henry followed her lead. He took a step forward, and his right leg buckled under him. She reached out and grabbed him. Just as her hands enclosed around his body, her skin tingled. She willed herself to not think about the sensation.

"Thanks." He groaned. "I haven't done that in quite a while."

"You can always blame it on age." As far as everyone else was concerned, he was approaching his 40th birthday, and she was starting to see a couple of her colleagues deal with aging's aches and pains. Henry's own set, although minor compared to theirs, wouldn't surprise anyone.

He chuckled as he leaned on her. "They would also be questioning my flexibility." He looked at her. "And my fitness."

She grinned. He was more flexible and fit than anyone else in the precinct, but the reason for it was their little secret.

He wobbled and leaned against her even more, causing the hair on her nape to stand up on end. "It appears that my legs have fallen asleep on me."

The earthy scent of his cologne and the very faint odor from his latest trip to the East River—according to him in the elevator, another hit-and-run from a distracted driver—mingled in her nose and almost made her forget where she was and what she was doing. Her own legs threatened to buckle under her, forcing her to take smaller, slower steps to keep both of them upright.

She shook her head in amazement as they took the last few steps toward the threshold. How could he always manage to weave a spell over her? One that she wished that she could remain under forever?

They hobbled into Lieu's office. The moment that they crossed the threshold, Lieu raised an eyebrow. "Henry, are you all right?"

He forced a smile onto his face. "I only need to get the feeling back in my legs. That's all." He eased himself into the same chair that he had sat in before and flexed his legs.

Lt. Reece sat down in her chair and folded her hand in front of her. When everyone was positioned around the desk, she glanced down at the surface. After a moment, her eyes darted from person to person.

She heaved a sigh. "I have spent the past three hours looking into this and thinking about it. Ordinarily, we would have unis staked out at a detective's residence or increase patrols of their neighborhood. In more serious cases, the person would be placed under witness protection. If this were a normal situation, I wouldn't hesitate to use any of them."

She averted her attention to her hands for a moment. "In this case, I can't. We have no idea who could have sent the envelope, and we cannot afford to allocate the resources to protect the two of you unless we have more details about this new stalker. In addition, your life circumstances make everything much more complicated. Jo, your townhouse is now public knowledge to the NYPD courtesy of Hugh Dunn's discovery of your address, and Adam keeps an almost constant vigil on Henry, the shop and your work in the field." She eyed the couple. "I cannot endanger the lives of the officers, both of you, and Abe if either Adam or your new stalker decides to attack whoever stands between them and you."

"The only thing that I can think of," Lieu set her sight on Henry, "is for you to leave your lives here behind…at least temporarily."

 _What?_

"Isn't there another way?" His voice cracked at the suggestion. "I—."

Tears sprang to the corners of Jo's eyes. Why couldn't God or fate or whoever had blessed him with his long life intervene in this as well? Henry had a home and a life here in New York…a good one with a son, friends, a job that gave him a purpose, and a girlfriend who loved him deeply. Couldn't the originator of his immortality see that he needed those things in his life? Couldn't they see that he was human, that he deserved to live a relatively normal life…no matter how long he would eventually live?

Lt. Reece stiffened in her chair and leaned forward. "Henry, this isn't for eternity. This is only until we can find whoever is threatening you and bring them to justice."

Her gaze turned to Jo. "And, in case you haven't heard me, I haven't said that you were to start your new life alone."

Jo's mouth fell open as she caught what Lieu was saying.

"What?!" Jo almost missed hearing Henry's simultaneous response as she grasped the chair arms to keep herself from bolting out of her seat. Was Lieu suggesting…?

"I just can't leave my life here!" The words tumbled out of Jo's mouth faster than she could catch them. "How are we supposed to work on the case? Henry and I were planning to spend some time together this weekend!" _I can_ _'t believe that I have just said that! And, Martinez, get a grip on yourself before you accidentally reveal Henry's immortality to everyone standing outside the door!_ She sucked in some air. "Henry can't leave Abe behind. Plus, you know yourself that my mother will worry about me if I suddenly broke off all contact with her and disappeared."

Lieu locked eyes with her. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Jo sat back in her chair and huffed. She didn't. In fact, she couldn't think of any way out of this situation.

Lieu's expression softened. "Since you are potential witnesses, you and Henry are off the case. Mike, Lucas, and I will be taking over for you—."

"Yes!" Lucas, standing between Henry and the window, pumped his fist.

"Lucas!" Lieu snapped.

His eyes met hers. "Let me guess. Dial my enthusiasm down to a bare minimum?"

Lieu nodded and then refocused her attention on the two investigators. "As I was about to say before I was interrupted," she glared at Lucas. "We will find another ME to exhume Dexter's body. Hopefully, it won't be Dr. Vaughn or Dr. Washington." She glanced at Henry. "Please tell me that he's not back yet."

Henry sighed. "Unfortunately, he returned to work yesterday."

Lieu rolled her eyes. "With his lack of thoroughness, that man can single-handedly torpedo a case faster than any defense attorney in New York. Is it going to take a lawsuit against the OCME for Dr. Lippmann to fire him?"

She smoothed her blouse and coat. "Anyway, you'll be able to tell your families that you'll be gone, and I do expect you to call us if you remember anything. At the same time, I don't want you to travel too far…only a radius equal to the distance between Manhattan and the tip of Long Island. We will use the place that you select as a new safe house for the NYPD." She stared at the immortal ME. "I don't want to send my detectives halfway around the world to come and get you should we break the case."

Jo lowered her eyes. About a year ago, Henry had bolted to Brussels because of Adam's threat against her, and Lt. Reece had sent Jo after him. She was lucky to run into him at one of the bus stops and to hear him mutter in English. If he hadn't, he might have stayed away from New York for the rest of her life.

Henry shifted his weight in his chair. "Understood."

Her expression softened. "I know you'll worry about Abe while you're gone. Mike, Lucas, and I will check on him, and, if he runs into trouble, I will send him to you and Jo."

She smiled. "You two are to leave here and finish up anything that you need to get done today. We'll meet at the shop this evening to help you find a place to stay and to work on your cover. Effective tomorrow, you will be living your new identities until we catch this jerk."

Jo stole a glance at Henry. He lowered his eyes, and the peace in them started to fade again. She sucked in her breath. She hated to see Henry like this.

He finally lifted his head. "There isn't any other way?"

Lieu leaned forward. "I'm afraid not."

She turned to the other two men in the room. "Not a word about this to anyone here or in the OCME. If there is a mole in either agency, I don't want anyone to tip them off. Do I make myself clear?"

Mike and Lucas nodded.

"Good." Lieu straightened a stack of papers and laid the envelope on top of them. "I'll see you at the shop about six. If anyone from internal affairs ever gets suspicious, I left the office and went home early."

Everyone gaped at her. She looked each person in the eye. "What?"

Henry cleared his throat. "It's just that you tend to stay away from your detectives during personal crises due to policy mandates."

Lieu's expression softened as she leaned over her folded hands. "You have no idea how many times policy has kept me away from my people when they need my support, especially recently, and I hate it. I'm not letting it keep me away from you this time."

Lieu sobered and stared them down. "Don't you still have a job to do?"

The group vacated their spots and headed for the door. As Henry eased behind Jo and slipped his hand onto her back, she turned back to him and gulped. She had wanted some time alone with him, but from now until after they had solved the case? She had no idea what she was going to do with it...

…or if she was ready to start a new life with him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Sources for how to doctor a photograph are from Patrick Lucas Austin's LifeHacker article "How to Tell if a Photo Has Been Doctored", DMA Central's "How Can You Tell if a Picture Has Been Photoshopped?", and Fatima Wahab's Addictive Tips article "Photoshopped or Not? Three Ways To Tell If An Image Is Real Or Fake".

The information on hatpins is from Karen Abbott's _Smithsonian_ article ""The Hatpin Peril" Terrorized Men Who Couldn't Handle the 20-Century Woman" and Natasha Frost's _Atlas Obscura_ 's article "Before Mace, a Hatpin Was an Unescorted Lady's Best Defense".

The distance between Manhattan and the tip of Long Island is about 100 miles (160 kilometers). We'll see how far they will go.

I'm getting Henry sitting cross-legged from both the scene in the Pilot where Abe kills Henry with the engineer's blood and the promotional stills for the episode. If you look closely, one of Henry's/Ioan's feet is tucked almost under his other leg, and I decided to borrow it for the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The usually welcoming walls of the apartment threatened to close in on Henry and bury him within the depths of the shop. Each step toward freedom now was constrained to the narrow walkway between the furniture.

Henry puffed out his cheeks and blew out some air. The past month had been almost heavenly. No more worries about anyone discovering his condition. No more panic rising up within him when someone had asked him about his past. No more pain-filled memories intruding into his thoughts and dreams. No more fears of moving once again. Even whatever designs Adam had for him and the people whom he cared about had been the furthest that they had ever been in his mind.

He inwardly cursed himself. He should have remembered his thoughts while standing near the edge of the East River. For a split second, he had considered this possibility. Yet, he was so elated by the changes in him that he had shoved those concerns aside and had banished them to the deep recesses of his mind. Now….

"Henry!"

The immortal stopped in his tracks and spun around at Abe's stern tone and use of his first name. His son locked eyes on him, practically daring Henry to ignore him.

Abe crossed his arms. "Will you stop your pacing before you wear a hole in the floor and fall through it? I'm sure that you don't want to land on one of your vases or the new Louis Vuitton chest that I bought at the estate sale in Brighton Beach last week. And I'm sure that you don't want to explain to Lt. Reece why you would be spending another night in jail tonight instead of being here at the shop."

"My apologies, Abe." Henry instinctively resumed his stride and thought better of it. "It's just—."

He wiped his face and stepped closer to the young man. He had only mentioned a few words about the situation in passing once he had arrived home. He had failed to go in-depth because he had hoped that he could come up with a different solution to their predicament. One which would enable him and Jo to continue their lives without interruption. So far, nothing suitable had come to mind.

"This is about that picture of you and Jo, isn't it?"

Abe's question sliced through Henry's thoughts. He swallowed back the forming tears and simply nodded.

"Are you sure it is real?"

"Lucas is certain that it is."

The image of Jo approaching him and Dr. Ross, her hair wrapped neatly in a bun tucked against her nape, flashed before him and overwhelmed his other concerns. His heart pounded as the image overlapped with the stream of memories of those who had sought her life.

"Abe, I need to protect her." He vaguely caught his silent plea. "I love her too much to let anything happen to her." His voice started wavering. "I don't know what I would do if I—."

His next words instinctively faded before they reached his lips. He gulped in some much-needed air as tears fought their way to the surface. He had almost lost her several times since they had first met, and, each time, it had felt as though it could have been her last.

"Who do you suspect is behind it?"

Henry focused on the question while he pulled himself out of the familiar grief. He shook his head. "Only someone who had access to Lt. Reece's office. Someone like…"

Adam.

Henry cursed himself again. He shouldn't have brushed off Jo's concerns so readily. Of course the other immortal would alter his methods to disguise his intent if he felt that it would give him an advantage in their long-running game of cat-and-mouse. He had already taken a job with the NYPD, and they were waiting for him to make his next move. Perhaps….

"Someone like a police officer or a DA?"

"A district attorney?"

Henry's eyes widened, and he stared at his son in disbelief. Why didn't he think of that?

Before he voiced that thought, a second one sparked and fueled a flame within him. He started to pace again.

"How could they?" Henry brushed past Abe and headed toward the kitchen. "Jo hasn't had an association with the D.A.'s office beyond their prosecutorial role in five years, and she certainly had not been around them when she was a young detective aside from her depositions and testimonies in court. What would possess someone to force her from her home and her life? To even contemplate—?"

The bell over the shop's door below jingled. Henry stopped, glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle, and stared at Abe. They still had an hour and a half before everyone arrived. Surely, a customer wouldn't break into the shop, and Sam was preparing to go on a trek through Europe over the summer.

A surge of adrenaline froze Henry. What if it were Adam?

"Who's going to get the door?"

Henry squared his shoulders and clenched his fists. "I will."

As he marched through the rest of the apartment and down the stairs, he seethed. Adam consistently threatened to end his life in New York, and, on several occasions, he had threatened Jo's own as well. This time, though, Adam had better wished that Abigail had never been assigned to be his nurse. By the time that Henry was done with the other immortal, one of them would be spending a long time in prison under suicide watch…and it wouldn't be Henry.

Henry threw the door leading into the shop open. A shock of long, wavy, dark brown hair greeted him. His heart stilling in his chest, he paused to see who their guest was.

The moment the woman turned around, his body grew limp. Willing himself to remain upright, he walked toward her.

"Jo!" His voice rose a little higher than he had expected. "You're early."

Jo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and briefly glanced at the ground. When her eyes met his again, they glistened with tears.

"I, um…" She drew in some air. "I need someone to talk to."

Fighting the throb in his heart, he nodded. "Let's go upstairs."

Jo leaned down and slung a duffle bag strap over her shoulder. She then picked up the small, black suitcase that she had first brought to the shop years ago. She looked at the door that he had come out of and sighed.

"Stupid me." She huffed and glanced down at an unfamiliar rolling suitcase. She faced him again and gave him a small smile. "I forgot about your stairs."

"Did you drive here?"

She nodded. "I had a time toting it downstairs to my garage. The wheels jarred my arm, and it almost knocked me down the staircase when it bumped against me."

"Do you want me to take it up for you?"

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened and closed several times. She finally blinked. 'Would you?"

He located the handle on the side of piece of luggage, took it in his hand, and gestured toward the door. As they silently wove the rest of the way around the mixture of Henry's possessions and Abe's finds, Henry kicked himself for his brief forgetfulness. They had given her a key to the shop in case she needed to retrieve some clean clothes for him following one of his deaths. At the same time, they had given her the freedom to come and go wherever she pleased within their home. It was only natural for her to let herself in as though she belonged there.

She glanced back at him with puffy, red eyes and readjusted her strap. Henry swallowed. He hated to see her like this. She had already experienced much sorrows in her life. Her father wasn't the epitome of fatherhood, and it was Jo who had made the difficult decision to testify against him during his burglary and murder trial at the tender age of 15. She had once likened her life on East 116th Street to those of Irish, Jewish, and Puerto Rican immigrants on the Lower East Side in the 1890s…and to those living in Alphabet City today. She had seen horrors on her job, ones which most people would choose to shun rather than confront. She had lost Sean five years ago, and she had almost lost the immortal medical examiner recently. And the lies which he had told her during their first nine months of working together had almost derailed their relationship permanently. She didn't need this added to her shoulders as well.

They rounded the bannister in the kitchen. As Jo headed for the living room, Henry stepped over to the table and poured them some tea. Balancing the two cups, he joined her side on the sofa.

He offered her one cup. She blinked and shook her head before her unfocused gaze found him. She reached out, gingerly accepted the beverage, and took a sip of it.

Henry studied the unfamiliar suitcase. "Whose luggage is it?"

"It's, um, it was Sean's. He, um, he had bought it before our honeymoon."

Henry nodded. He hadn't noticed any defining characteristics that would indicate the late man's possession of it. Yet, it made sense that Sean had some luggage in his possession.

After a few moments of silence, she leaned back, propped her elbow onto the back of the sofa, and rested her head on her hand. Her eyes searched his.

"At work, you mentioned that you were considering several options. Any of them any good?"

Henry took another sip of tea, set it down on the coffee table beside hers, and pulled his lips together. "I had considered suggesting that we use the shop or your house as a base of operations while we returned to work, but Lt. Reece had nixed that idea. I…."

His voice hitched in his throat. "I, um, I had also contemplated asking the person who forged my birth certificate to create a new identity for you…."

He broke his gaze and stared at the seat between them. He couldn't tell her that he had planned to discuss places where she could live and to arrange transportation for her. After he had learned that she had safely settled into her new home, he and Abe would pack and begin their lives anew elsewhere.

He wiped his face. The only way that would have worked would have been for him to break off all communication with her and to never see her again.

And he couldn't bear the thought of that.

Jo's head found first his knee and then his hand. Her fingers wrapped around his and squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" He dropped his arm off the sofa, lowered his gaze, and sighed. "I had thought that I had moved past the lies and the running. I guess that I was wrong."

He swallowed back the lump in her throat. He had indicated that he hadn't wanted to do this in Lt. Reece's office. Perhaps he should have pleaded with his unofficial superior to reconsider her plan. Perhaps he should have offered her one of his. Perhaps….

His blood froze within him. Were his old habits resurrecting themselves? He had hoped that they would remain dead for as long as he would live.

He turned his attention to their joined hands to reign in his emotions. "I don't want to lose myself again." The thought tumbled out of his mouth before he knew it. "It had been very difficult to remember my true self with every lie that I had to tell others." He dropped his gaze to their cups on the coffee table. "I've gotten myself back, and…."

Jo's presence called unto him. When he looked up, she smiled and squeezed his hand again.

"You're not the same man that I had met four years ago. The Henry Morgan that I knew then wouldn't have hesitated to leave his life behind. In fact, he would have fled Lieu's office at the sight of his image in the photo, and he would have been halfway to JFK or LaGuardia before I arrived at the shop."

His eyes studied hers as he drank in her words. The slight tremble in his hand lessened until it had stopped. He wished that he had her confidence about that. The few times when he had….

He stopped himself. He was being selfish. He should be more focused on her and not on his own concerns.

His eyes found hers again. "What did you want to talk about?"

She broke her gaze and released his hand. "I don't think that I can do this."

"What do you mean?"

She pushed himself off her seat and walked to the fireplace. She paced for a few moments in an apparent effort to gather her thoughts before turning back to him.

"When I was married to Sean, there were times that I resented him." She waved her hand and erased Henry's question. "Don't get me wrong. I loved him."

She blew out some air. "I hated the fact that I couldn't let anyone know anything about him or where we lived." She glanced down to the ground and bit her lower lip. "I couldn't even invite Mike and Karen over to our house for dinner, and we trusted them. I accepted the situation because I knew that I needed to do it to protect him."

She bit her lower lip again. "Leaving one's home and lying about oneself is perfect for hiding centuries of life. But to hide from a stalker?" She sighed. "I love you, Henry, but…" She spun around before she could complete her sentence.

He gulped. He hoped that she wasn't considering breaking up with him.

Jo cocked her head and stepped closer to the fireplace. She reached out and gently took the photo that she had returned to him years ago off the mantle, being careful not to knock the urn containing the remainder of Abigail's ashes onto the floor.

Henry rose and joined Jo's side. His eyes landed on the black-and-white image. He laid his hands on her shoulders, partly to comfort her and partly to remain upright. In a way, ages had passed since he and Abigail had first come together….

 _ **Germany, May 29, 1945**_

 _Henry grinned as Abraham looked up at him and happily gurgled. The young child was still in his crib—one which they had obtained from a furniture maker who was sympathetic to the Allied cause—right where he belonged._

" _Hello, Abraham." He picked up the boy out of the crib and lifted him into his arms. "How are you doing on this fine morning?"_

 _The dull pain in the pit of his stomach grew sharper as Abraham grasped onto his thumb and held it. The other nurses and doctors in the makeshift military hospital had already begun to send out the infants and young children who were healthy enough to be released from the doctors_ _' care to the orphanages. Soon, it would be Abraham's turn._

 _Henry pulled his lips tightly at the sight of the numerical tattoo on the child_ _'s forearm. It was truly miraculous that Abraham had been somehow spirited away from the gas chambers shortly after his birth and that he had survived the harsh living conditions of the concentration camp in which he had been found. Now, he faced another danger. A few of the orphans from the surrounding villages who had come to the camp for medical treatment had reported that their new caregivers were as cruel to them as the ones whom Dickens had depicted in his books. One child, a young girl who was no older than five, had already died from starvation two days after arriving at the camp and pleading for Abigail to help her. If only he could find a way to prevent Abraham from suffering a similar fate._

 _He sighed. Admittedly, half of his thoughts of late had been about Abraham. Henry longed to take the boy and to raise him as his own. His vagabond lifestyle, however, prevented him from thinking about caring for a child. Abraham required a stable home—preferably with a father who would leave this earth before his son—an education, and friends and neighbors to be with, and he was incapable of meeting those needs._

 _Even if he were to have a life which was more suitable for child-rearing, the directors of the orphanages and his superiors would never let him have Abraham. They preferred for childless couples, families, and wealthy dowagers to care for the children_ _…not bachelors and widowers. If he were to petition the orphanage's administrators for custody of Abraham, it would be flatly and automatically denied._

 _Abraham peered at Henry and giggled. Henry_ _'s lips tugged up at the joy that the boy had found in one of the simple pleasures of life._

" _It looks like I've found myself two happy men this morning."_

 _Henry spun around. The moment that he gazed into Abigail_ _'s eyes, they captured him and suggested that he should abandon all thought of everything. He offered her a smile, one which he sensed in his ecstasy wasn't entirely joyous. "Good morning yourself."_

" _How are we?"_

 _Abraham squealed and giggled as he reached for Henry_ _'s nose. The older man leaned away to keep the small hand from touching it. Yet, the babe merrily grabbed it and squeezed it._

 _He pried Abraham_ _'s tiny fingers off his nose and held him out to Abigail. She gently took him, and Henry's body tingled as her arms grazed over his._

 _Unable to move, Henry gaped at her as she brought the boy to her chest. The blond-haired, blue-eyed nurse who was occupying the other half of his recent thoughts made a natural mother. In the short time that they had known each other, he was finding her increasingly lovelier, more caring, nobler, and wiser than any woman he knew. Qualities that he had longed for in a wife._

"If someone were to fall in love _…."_

 _He broke his gaze and averted it to the ground. As he had told her, it wasn_ _'t that simple. It wasn't merely because he had no desire to watch death steal another person whom he cared about—let alone two—from him. Love took time to cultivate. It needed trust and knowledge of the other to grow. He and Abigail had barely known each other a couple of weeks, and they did not have the proper foundation to establish that kind of a relationship._

" _What is it?"_

 _Abigail_ _'s worried tone jerked Henry out of his thoughts. "I was just thinking—."_

 _He stopped himself. His sense of reason attempted to convince him to think of Abraham_ _'s and Abigail's best interests. To let a couple raise Abraham and provide him with everything necessary for his survival and thriving. To let Abigail find a mate who would be suitable for her and who would make her very happy._

 _At the same time, he couldn_ _'t imagine someone else raising Abraham, and, if he were to share parental duties, he couldn't see himself performing them with anyone else other than Abigail. Something deep in his soul was compelling him to ignore the risks of betrayal and a future grief and to spend as much time with her as possible daily._

 _Yet, if he and Abigail were to raise Abraham, he needed to keep her reputation honorable. Although relations outside of wedlock were an open secret, society generally frowned upon two unwedded people living together unless they were of the same sex. He would never forgive himself if Abigail_ _'s honor was to be called into question._

 _The only manner to keep her an honorable woman—._

 _A laugh escaped from his lips._ _"Let's get married."_

" _What? Marriage?" Her eyes searched his for clues into his decision. "I know that I had mentioned falling in love, but this is—."_

 _He raised his hand._ _"This isn't what you think."_

 _He surveyed the room for anyone who would listen in on their conversation. Once pleased that the other nurses were tending to the children, he leaned in and lowered his voice._

" _You and I wish to care for Abraham, but our superiors and the orphanages will not allow us to raise him because of our marital statuses. What I am suggesting is that we find a sympathetic chaplain and ask him to issue us a marriage license—."_

" _So we can pose as husband and wife to adopt Abraham." Her eyes drifted away for a moment. "Do you know of one?"_

" _I was considering Reverend Potter." A chaplain with the American Army, the generally mild-mannered Methodist preacher had vehemently protested the rash placement of the children into the orphanages before their parents or other relatives could be found. Out of all the chaplains from the Allied armies, he would be the most likely to grant their request._

 _The closeness of his and Abigail_ _'s faces shifted Henry's heart and quickened his breath. How could he tell her that his mind was consistently thinking of her also? That, every time that he was around her, his cares frequently disappeared as he did every time he died?_

 _A malodor filled his nostrils, prompting him to follow the stench. Abraham cooed, squealed, and reached out for Abigail_ _'s cap._

" _It smells like someone needs a change." She moved him to her other hip and wrinkled her nose._

 _She beamed at Henry and leaned toward him, directing Abraham_ _'s bottom away from them. "Let me know when you would like to approach Reverend Potter."_

 _As Abigail turned toward the changing tables, Henry gaped at her. He had just made perhaps the most impulsive pair of decisions of his life. Yet, something about them felt so natural, so right. It was almost as if fate was bringing the three of them together to form a family._

 _ **Abe**_ _ **'s Antiques, New York City, Present-Day**_

Jo sighed, pulling Henry out of the memory. She turned to him, her mouth slightly agape. "Abigail and Abe had protected you for nearly three-quarters of a century. I can only imagine what they had felt every time that they had to uproot their lives for you."

Henry looked back at the photograph and then Abe, who had entered the kitchen and proceeded to pour himself a cup of tea. He had never appreciated the sacrifices that he had asked them to make on his behalf since he had decided to make them a part of his life. Being uprooted every time someone had discovered his immortality or his agelessness. The frequent moves, even within Manhattan. Abigail finding another nursing job or, in some instances, staying at home when none were to be found. Requiring them to abandon their native tongue in public and to learn another language whenever they had moved abroad. Hindering Abe and Fawn's blossoming romance when they were only children. Asking Abe to leave the shop until the person who had recognized his father had forgotten about him, left the city, or died. Of late, requiring Abe to address his father by his first name and to refer to him as his friend, his business partner, or his roommate.

He turned back to Jo. Now, it was his time to make the necessary sacrifices for her. Hans Koehler had demonstrated the hazards of Jo's profession, and they had caused Henry to worry about her safety every time that they were in the field or confronted a suspect. His family had once changed their lives to keep him safe. Jo should expect him to do no less for her.

She replaced the photograph, and her eyes searched his. "This is the only way, isn't it?"

"… _I haven't said that you were to start your new life alone."_

Henry squeezed Jo's shoulders. She wouldn't have to do it alone. They would get through this together, just as they always had.

"I'm—." His voice cracked at the thought of both of them leaving everything behind. "I'm afraid so."

Jo raised her arms, turned around until she faced him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He slid one arm around her and rubbed her back. His other hand rested on her waist.

He held her until she pulled away from him slightly. She looked into his eyes. "We're going to need a cover."

They loosened their grip on each other and headed back to the sofa, his arm around her waist. Henry peeked into the kitchen. Abe turned toward the refrigerator and pulled out a plate of blueberry scones and another plate of chocolate chip cookies that he had baked for himself.

Henry took another look at the clock on the mantle. They needed to hurry. Once Lt. Reece arrived, she would want to know what they had decided on.

His mind turned to the evidence that he and Jo had discovered. He rolled his tongue in his mouth. "Whoever had sent it knows that we weren't working together then. They explicitly named both the OCME and the NYPD in the note, and the photo included Dr. Ross and a couple of uniformed officers as well."

As she mulled his comment, he slightly shook his head in disbelief. Surely he would have recognized her when she had walked into his morgue. He rarely forgot a name, a voice, or a face…and there were many over the course of his long life. The few that he could not immediately place, it had taken merely moments before he had remembered who they were.

They sat back on the sofa, their teas forgotten. Jo resumed her previous position, this time, her free hand staying firmly around his. "We can safely assume that they don't know that we are together now. Otherwise, they would have said something about it."

He mulled that over. "You might be right."

He shifted around until his posture mirrored hers. "As Lt. Reece doesn't want us to handle this alone—."

Jo scooted closer to him. Her knees pressed into his, and he found himself unable to look anywhere else. Her brown eyes now appeared to be piecing together something. "And I don't think that either of us want to be alone in this—."

His jaw fell open. How did she peer into his heart and see that?

She craned her neck around him, and it revived his senses. A moment later, she found him again and giggled. "We can't pose as cousins or brother and sister. No one would believe us, even if we tried to convince them that we are adopted."

"Especially not if we acted like lovers." He licked his bottom lip. "We could pose as a cohabiting couple."

She shook her head. "It might raise suspicions if we argued with each other."

He bit his lower lip and briefly broke his gaze. She was right about that. The rare few times that they had quarreled, everyone had noticed the tension between them and had asked them if they were okay.

Henry gazed into Jo's eyes. "Our suspect doesn't know that we had married others…."

" _Married_." Henry's mind raced through his memories and pieced together a plan. He bit his lower lip again. He didn't know whether Jo would agree to it.

He turned his attention to the photo. Although she had left him years ago, he did not know how Abigail would have felt if he were to go through with it.

 _Forgive me, Abigail. I wouldn_ _'t consider this if there were another way to protect Jo. I hope that you would understand._

At that moment, a cool breeze brushed against his cheek. He took it as a sign of Abigail's likely approval of the plan.

He locked eyes with Jo again, and his searched hers. "What if we posed as husband and wife?"

Jo's eyes widened and darted frantically. "Henry!" Her raised voice shocked his heart into a gallop. "What are you saying?! We—."

She studied him for a moment. He found himself holding his breath as though he was underwater.

Her eyes drifted to his and searched them. "They think that our personal lives haven't changed in almost a decade."

She glanced down, bit her lower lip, and nodded. "Okay, let's do this. Anything to keep you in New York."

He squeezed her hand. "And you alive."

Jo peered back at the mantle, her brown eyes working on something. "How fast do you think Lucas can create some fake wedding photos?"

Henry's eyes widened. He had never thought of that, not even with Abigail. When they had taken the photo of them and Abe, they had already begun to consider themselves in the bonds of matrimony. It merely took ten years for Gloria Carlyle to remind him of life's brevity and for him to overcome his fear of the future, to propose to Abigail, and to make it official.

He immediately brought himself back to the present and cleared his throat. "If he works overnight on it, he could have them done before we leave. Abe has a photo printer that he could use." He ran through the group of medical examiners. "If he is lucky, he could be assigned to either Jeff, Dr. Lebron, or Dr. Cynthia Hawthorne starting tomorrow"

"Dr. Cynthia Hawthorne?"

Henry smiled. "One of the recently-hired medical examiners. Jeff appears to be enamored with her."

Jo smiled and threw her head back, triggering Henry's own grin. He wished that he could make her feel that way for as long as she lived.

His eyes landed on Jo's luggage in Abe's usual chair by the fireplace. Unlike most other flights, it would be beneficial for him to alter his wardrobe as well. His tailored three-piece suits and cardigans, although quite comfortable, garnered as many questions and as much notice as the hideous tie-dyed bell bottoms that Abe had worn in the 1970s. His clothes could attract their stalker's attention and lead the perpetrator straight to them.

His tongue found the inside of his cheek. Fortunately, he still possessed the ability to blend in. He had a few causal pieces in his wardrobe…including several pairs of jeans that he had picked up after work today. Yet, he was certain that someone would notice his sweat suits and his NYPD t-shirts.

He turned back to Jo. "I wonder if Mike has left his house yet. Perhaps he has some spare shirts that I could borrow."

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. "I'll find out."

"Need some pots and pans?"

Abe's voice shot through the room. Henry stared at his son leaning against the threshold. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you two will be living together for a while." His eyes darted to Jo and back to Henry. "Just don't take the espresso maker." He pointed at himself. "I want _my_ espresso in the morning sometimes."

"Abraham, it's partly mine."

"I know, but if I loan it to you, we might not get it back." His eyes darted to Jo before returning to the immortal.

"Hey!" Jo released her grasp on Henry and spun toward Abe. "I'm not _that_ addicted to coffee."

Abe turned without rebutting her. As he left to retrieve some boxes, the words "living together" registered in Henry's mind. He slowly turned back to Jo and stared at her in disbelief. He had thought that their weekend was ruined. Now, it appeared that fate had afforded them with the luxury of time.

Her eyes caught his, and he swallowed. Why was he starting to feel that fate had something in mind?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I took a little liberty with Jo's backstory. A few details are from the show, but the rest are mine. And, yes, Jo turning her father in and testifying at his trial as a teenager is a part of my head canon for her.

I know we don't see Henry in jeans unless it's in fan fic, but I will explain them later! I promise!

Fun fact: I had originally planned to have Lt. Reece suggesting that Henry and Jo's cover when I started this story. Naturally, a certain pair of someones had other ideas. I gave in and wrote this instead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Found anything yet?"

Jo groaned and rested her chin on her hand. "Nothing yet. I'm trying to find something that Henry and I both approve of." So far, she had found a number of nice apartments in the city, but none of them felt like she and Henry could spend a considerable amount of time there.

She stared at the screen, hoping something would pop out at her. It had been a very long time since she had done this. Even then, she had allowed Sean to pick where they lived, and he had selected the nicest neighborhood that he could find. She agreed that her Washington Heights neighborhood was nice, but the first time that she had seen this place…

 _This case couldn_ _'t have possibly gotten any weirder._

 _Jo huffed and paced in front of the entrance to the kitchen as she waited for Dr. Morgan to finish changing clothes. First, the ME assigned to her case had completely blown it up within seconds after opening the engineer_ _'s body. He appeared in the surveillance footage carrying the pocket watch that she had found at the scene and boarding the train moments before it had crashed, and he was nowhere to be seen in the video of the passengers leaving the crash site. His basement looked like a mad scientist's lab. When he had brushed past her earlier tonight, he had looked and smelled like he had been swimming in the river._

 _And jellyfish? Who owned jellyfish as pets?_

 _She shut her eyes and shook her head to drown out the drone still in her ears. The medical equipment downstairs had looked like they had been used minutes before her and her team_ _'s arrival at the antiques shop. Based on the arrangement of the leads that she had found lying on the table…_

 _She shook her head again. That was crazy. Dr. Morgan couldn_ _'t have used it on himself. Nor could he have used it on Abe, his somewhat irate roommate whose irritated voice could be heard upstairs._

 _Right?_

 _She stopped herself and marched into the kitchen. She couldn_ _'t let herself consider the possibility. If she didn't watch it, Mike could talk Lt. Roarke into setting up an appointment for her at Bellevue. And she definitely didn't want that after the shrink had tried to pry into her feelings about Sean's death the last time that she had seen one for work._

 _Hoping for a distraction, Jo looked around the room. Her lips tugged up as she took everything in. With the exception of the copper cookware and the modern appliances, the kitchen reminded her of her grandmother_ _'s in East Harlem._

 _Her eyes landed on the tea set. She stepped closer to the table and studied it. Why wasn_ _'t she surprised that Dr. Morgan drank tea? From the way that he was dressed, he almost looked like he had stepped off of the set of_ Pride and Prejudice _and found his way to New York_ _._

 _The nearby French doors beckoned her to come in. She sauntered into the living room and spun around. The living room oozed with a feel of masculinity with a bit of the Darcy's manor mixed in._

 _She wandered up to the bookshelves on either side of the fireplace, ran her fingers over each book, and scanned their spines. Her eyes widened as she realized that half of the titles were written in several different languages._ _She chose one, tugged it from its cozy spot, turned it over in her hand. She wrinkled her eyes brows at the book_ _'s condition._

 _She opened it up and found the publication date. Her eyes widened, and the book suddenly felt heavier in her hand. That wasn't possible. Yet, the antique book looked as though it had been recently bought at a bookstore._

 _She replaced the book and dropped both her hand and her jaw. Dr. Morgan was apparently well-read and well-educated. The worried looks that he and Abe had exchanged showed his care for his elderly roommate. Everything, even the antiques in the shop below, looked like they were well-cared for. Nothing suggested that Dr. Morgan was a murderer._

 _Mike with a pair of antique handcuffs dangling from his hand flashed before her. She cursed herself. No innocent civilian in their right mind would have them in their possession. Not even for_ _…._

 _Footsteps flowed out of the hallway and into the living room. Jo scurried back to her original location. A moment later, Dr. Morgan appeared in the hallway, twirling a gray scarf in his hands._

" _Detective Martinez?" Plastering a smile on his face, Dr. Morgan wrapped the garment around his neck and tucked the ends under his jacket. "I assume that everything's okay?"_

 _She schooled her face and willed herself to forget about what she had seen._ _"Everything's okay."_

 _Looking at his wrists, she swallowed. She couldn_ _'t cuff him. He seemed too nice of a guy for the charges that he faced. Creepy, like his assistant had described him? Oh, yeah. Weird? Definitely. Unusual? He had to be the most unusual person that she had ever met. But a mass murderer…?_

 _Remembering the next step, she stepped behind him._ _"Let's go."_

 _As they headed toward the stairs, she snuck a glance over at him. Why was she starting to consider the possibility that he wasn_ _'t a killer?_

 _And why was something deep inside of her starting to stir? Something that she hadn't felt in a long while._

Jo blinked and surveyed the bright kitchen and dining area that was usually Abe's domain. Ever since her first step in it as Henry's guest, the apartment over the shop had become quite the special place for her. Her townhouse might have become her home since she and Sean had moved into it. But there was just something about this place that made her feel as though all the cares of the world instantly melted away every time that she came over for a visit.

She bit her lower lip as dread flooded her. She didn't want to think that she might not ever see the shop again.

She quickly schooled her features and smiled at Lieu. "I'm trying to find someplace like this, but I haven't been able to."

"I'm pretty sure you will." She turned the computer around. "What have you found so far?"

"Just a few places in Greenwich Village, Chelsea, and the Upper West Side."

Lieu raised her eyebrows. "None of them sound like you."

"I know." Jo rested her head on her hand. "But those neighborhoods have the most apartments for the most reasonable rents." She slapped her hand on the table. "Unfortunately, a lot of the buildings want double the rent for a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment as they do for a one-bed, one-bath."

"Perhaps you need to compromise." Sensing Jo's protest, Lieu locked eyes with her. "I mean on the bathroom. Or maybe you need to leave Manhattan. Which brings me to my question: why are you searching for apartments in Manhattan? I gave you two a 100-mile radius."

Jo dropped her eyes. "I don't think either of us wants to be too far away in case something were to happen to Abe."

She studied her unofficial superior. That was the truth. Although Mike, Karen, Lt. Reece, and Lucas would keep an eye on the younger Morgan, she knew that Henry would worry about Abe's safety while he and Jo were away. Likely, nothing would happen to him until his father's return. Yet, Henry's time with Abe was now becoming more limited because of Abe's age, and Henry didn't want to lose another precious moment with his son. Remaining on Manhattan would provide him with a small degree of comfort while allowing him to have the ability to send for Abe if there was trouble.

Lieu scrutinized Jo's appearance, causing the younger woman to shift in her seat. "Are you sure that's the only reason?"

"No." Mike's voice entered the kitchen. "We can't afford it. Even if he gave us a discount, I doubt Doc will let us have the vase because of our two little hooligans."

"You make it sound like he's giving away puppies."

"That's one way of looking at it." Lt. Reece deadpanned.

Jo giggled and covered her mouth before Henry could hear it in his bedroom. She had lost count of the number of times that she had seen him interrupt a sale of one of his possessions. Although she understood that they were his equivalent of a scrapbook, he still made Abe look like a terrible salesperson.

Karen appeared on the top of the staircase a moment later. Mike dropped the handle of their rolling suitcase and took the duffel bag from her. She headed to the table and slid into the chair next to Jo. "Why do I feel like this is out of the 1800s?"

"What do you mean?" Lt. Reece leaned forward and rested her hands on the table.

Karen peeked over the open laptop. "Men talking in one room and women in the other. Outside of meals and parties, it happened all the time back then."

Jo bit her lower lip. Although it did feel that way, none of the men meant anything by it. Given all of Henry's quirks, Lucas likely felt that he had to stage an intervention to make sure that Henry wouldn't accidentally do something that would give them away.

She playfully nudged her best friend. "It sounds like we need a re-watch of _Pride and Prejudice_ soon."

Karen pushed her back. "In your case, forget a re-watch. You have your own Mr. Darcy."

Jo peered toward the hallway almost as if she could see her boyfriend through its walls. Although he was nothing like the character, Henry exuded the manliness of a bygone era. It was no wonder most women—including her—found him charming and attractive.

Mike popped his head over the monitor and evaporated Jo's haze. "Let me guess. Lucas is already here?"

Jo nodded as Lucas' voice drifted into the room. "He arrived about half an hour ago. He had interrupted us before we could start working on our cover story." Fortunately, Abe had managed to distract him long enough for them to work on it in peace by showing him his photo printer and some antiques that he had recently bought at a couple of estate sales.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Great." He repositioned the strap and pointed himself toward the hallway. "Let me see if I can help Abe stop him from talking Doc into doing something crazy like getting a body piercing or a tattoo. Not to say that it won't last anyway…."

Jo stared at Mike. The only major change to his appearance that Henry had considered outside of the contents of Mike's duffel bag was shaving his stubble. And he was planning to do that early tomorrow morning.

Once Mike had hurried his way through the apartment, Lieu crossed her arms and trained her gaze onto Karen. "Karen, in case internal affairs comes knocking on your office door or interrupts one of your classes and asks you about tonight, I was never here."

Karen rested her hand on her chin. "What's going on? Mike didn't tell me anything about it when he told me that Henry had asked if he could borrow some shirts."

Lieu leaned forward and rested her hands on the table. "We've found a picture of Jo and Henry at a crime scene in 2009 and a note threatening their lives today. I thought that it would be best if they go into hiding."

Karen ran her hand over her chin-length blond hair. "Do you suppose that psychopathic immortal is behind it?"

Jo stared at her friend. "Henry's told you about Adam?" She didn't think that he would as he wouldn't want to upset her.

"He gave me the heads-up since he's seen Adam on campus and since Mike and I have children. From what Henry's told me, this Adam gives me the creeps." She shuddered at the thought of whatever scenario which had crossed her mind.

Jo bit her lower lip. "We aren't sure that he's behind this, but we don't have any other leads yet either."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. About Adam, that is."

Jo nodded, her thoughts flitting from one of Adam's tricks to another. It would be strangely comforting if he was behind this. At least they knew who they were dealing with and what to expect.

Karen twisted toward her best friend. "By the way, awesome picture of you and Henry on Pinterest."

 _Henry and my picture on Pinterest?_ Jo grabbed her phone and checked the app. Her jaw dropped when she saw the selfie that Henry had taken of her in his arms in the living room next to the brick wall behind the sofa.

She narrowed her eyes. She didn't pin it onto her page. How…?

She gaped. She had fun watching him figure out how to use her smartphone's camera and how to take a modern selfie. Had he…?

"What do you have here?" Karen pulled Jo's laptop toward her and studied the screen. "Ooh, you have some nice apartments."

Jo pocketed her cell phone. "Henry's letting me choose where we're staying, but I haven't found anything that would work for us."

Karen's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yep. It's not the first time that he had let someone else select a new place to live. Abigail and Abe had picked out entire countries before."

Lieu strolled around the table. "I'm trying to talk Jo into expanding her horizons. I gave her a 100-mile radius to work with."

Karen scrolled and typed for a few minutes. Finally, she straightened in her chair and pointed at the screen. "Here's one in the Hamptons. It even has a swimming pool."

Jo scooted her chair closer to the computer. Her jaw fell open at the sight of the familiar three-story house. "That's one of our crime scenes!"

Lieu stood over the two women. "Well, I'll be…."

Karen turned to face them. "What?"

Jo brushed her hair back. "It's Harold Price's house."

Her pulse racing frantically, her eyes found the walkway beside the house. Her memory drifted when Henry hitting on her. She had shot him a look because, with the exception of Mike, he wasn't like the other men whom she had worked with. He was so respectful toward women that the first time that she had seen him flirt was when they were at Aterna's offices. And that had been only to obtain a sample of their formula.

Now, she saw that he didn't give his opinion like that for just any woman. He might have shown his appreciation of a woman's beauty in other ways. Yet, the depths that he had gone to describe her—telling her that she was born lucky, calling her attractive and "quite hot", and informing her that he had noticed her looks under her makeup and her ponytail—were reserved only for her. Even he had buried it under scientific explanations and personal preferences.

"Jo?" Lieu's voice cut through the memories of her and Henry's relationship.

Jo blinked, and she willed herself to focus on what was happening. "I was just thinking."

"Uh, huh." Karen grinned and rested her chin on her hand again. "Sure you were."

Jo snatched the laptop back toward her and clicked on the back button. "We're not interested in moving that far for Abe's sake."

"How about Henry? Have you talked to him about it yet? Does he have a personal preference?"

"We've discussed it before. He said that he would be fine with whatever apartment that I picked out." She sighed. "My only problem is finding a place that won't make us uncomfortable." That was the last thing that she wanted.

Karen rested her head on her hand. "What is your cover?"

"Newlyweds. We were married a month and a half ago." She chuckled. That was about when they had first confessed their love for each other. "He had suggested it to explain the newness of our relationship without arousing anyone's suspicions."

" _Married_." Her skin tingled with the word. She hadn't addressed herself in that way since Sean's death.

She blinked and shook her head. This was only a cover. When they had found their stalker, she and Henry would return to their regular lives. Lives in which they were just dating. In the meantime, they would be living together….

Jo stared past the laptop, her eyes unfocused as the tingle grew more intense. She needed to get away long enough so that she could calm down.

"We're only dating, not getting married."

"Huh?" Karen spun around and slapped her hand on the table.

"What?" Lieu snapped her head toward the detective.

 _Did I just say that out loud?_ Her cheeks growing warm, Jo couldn't bear to look at either woman. She pushed away from the table, marched into the living room, and collapsed onto Henry's sofa.

She bit her lower lip. When Henry had suggested that they should pose as husband and wife, she had thought that the idea was crazy. After thinking it over and agreeing to it, she had found herself excited about the possibility of finally having some quality time to themselves and being able to further their relationship. Now, their cover was becoming real…fast.

Her eyes traveled around the room before landing on the picture on the mantle. She rose from her seat and walked over to it. In a way, Abigail had been lucky when she and Henry had begun their relationship. Becoming instant parents had caused the two of them to get to know each other intimately as they had raised Abe. Now, though, his relationship with Jo was almost like any other one that had started as both a work-related partnership and a friendship. They knew each other well enough to know each other's likes and preferences, the other's life story, and their usual routines. She had even seen him either bare-chested or naked on more than one occasion. But, that was nothing like being together under the same roof every day for an undefined period of time.

She gingerly returned to her place on the sofa. She wanted to do this for Henry. She wasn't sure if they would survive it without driving each other insane.

Karen spun around in her chair and moved to the threshold. "Jo, are you okay?"

Swallowing, Jo nodded. "Yeah, I am." She sighed. "It's just…"

Karen joined her on the sofa. "What is it?"

Jo looked through the coffee table as she gathered her thoughts. When they were organized, she turned back to Karen. "I guess that I'm just nervous about Henry and me being roommates." She swallowed back her tears. "I don't want to mess this up."

Karen took her hands and locked eyes with her. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"I—."

Karen smiled. "Was there ever a time where you were nervous about your and Henry's relationship surviving something that you had done in the name of love?"

Jo giggled. "Our first year of working together. Henry took some time off work because Abe had discovered a major lead on Abigail's whereabouts. I thought that he had taken it off because I came to the shop to tell him that I wanted to go to Paris with him instead of Isaac."

Karen arched her eyebrows for a moment. "And you two are still together." She squeezed Jo's hands. "Don't think about what will happen between you while you're hiding. I'm sure that you will have fun together."

Jo glanced away and mulled over Karen's advice. She did have a point. Henry had told her then that she hadn't made him uncomfortable when she had arrived at the shop. Maybe she wouldn't find a way to make him uncomfortable now.

"No!"

"And why not? I've driven twice before, and I've kept both myself and Jo safe during the entire drive both times."

"Pops!"

Jo rolled her eyes. Both instances had occurred during the same week. She couldn't attest to Henry's driving skills the first time as she had lost consciousness while on the road. She, however, could vouch for the second time when he had driven her home from the hospital. Abe, however, still seemed terrified that his father would fall asleep behind the wheel again like he had in 1977.

Henry marched through the hallway, made his way into the kitchen, and poured himself a cup of tea. He scowled toward the hallway. If looks could kill, she would have to arrest him right now.

Jo broke away from Karen, wove her way through the room, and headed toward him. "What's up?"

He took a sip of his drink, and his eyes locked onto hers. "I swear," he glowered toward the hallway again, "if I didn't know any better, I would say that my son sounds _exactly_ like my father."

Her lips tugged into a grin. Sometimes that assessment of Abe was quite accurate.

She leaned forward and moved her mouth close to his ear. "If you want to drive my car again, I'll keep it between you and me."

His eyebrows raised, and he lowered his tea cup. He faced her, his eyes dancing with hope. She smiled, hoping to convey that she didn't mind if he took over the driving during their move.

She fished her phone out of her pocket. "I need to learn to log out of my apps before I hand you my phone."

He took another sip of tea. "What do you mean?"

She found the photo and flashed the phone at him. "Congratulations. You've joined the twenty-first century."

His jaw dropped, and he shook his head. "How did that happen?"

"You must have hit the 'Pin it' button when you were trying to take another picture." He was quite confused as to how to move from the photo album back to the camera once the photo was taken. Neither she nor Abe had any idea of how he had found her phone's alarm clock. Likely, he had pinned it then.

"So, that was…?"

"Your first social media post." Not wanting anyone else who was following her to see it, she quickly deleted it.

She flipped back through the photos and found the picture in question. She sucked in some air to cool her burning lungs. Maybe it was time for her to change her lock screen photo. It would hurt her to no longer see Sean's face every time that she used her phone. Yet, seeing Henry's, even when they were apart, would be good.

Henry finished his tea, set his cup next to the tea pot, and placed his hands in his pockets. "Have you made any progress in finding a residence yet?"

She shook her head. "I was thinking about getting a two-bedroom apartment or a house here in Manhattan. So far, I haven't come up with anything."

He took it in and nodded. "We can always claim that our 'spare' bedroom is for visiting family or for any children we may have in the future."

"My thoughts exactly."

He leaned back on the counter. "Have you decided on a location within the city?"

The cabinets were suddenly more interesting. She swallowed. He had hidden himself and his family half a world away before. She didn't know if where she had decided would be far enough for him.

Then again, Greenwich Village, Chelsea, and the Upper West Side had their charms. Greenwich Village was more like Morningside Heights in its heyday. Chelsea, with its galleries, would provide them with something to do every day. And the Upper West Side was classic New York. Any of them would be a good choice, but….

She bit her lower lip. Only one sounded perfect for a young couple trying to "escape" their pasts. "How about the Upper West Side?"

He glanced over at the hallway and sighed. "This will be the first time in about twenty-five years that I have no idea when I will see Abe again."

He took a look at his cup of tea, furrowed his eyebrows, and then smiled. "Upper West Side of Manhattan, it is. It will feel good to be close to home this time."

Henry slipped his arm around Jo. "Well, I'm interested in seeing what you have in mind."

She chuckled. "If I can wrangle my laptop away from Karen. Right now, she wants to send us to the Hamptons."

"The Hamptons?"

Jo rested her hand on his chest. "Harold Price's house is still on the market. She thinks it's a good prospect."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'm not too certain about living there…even if it's temporarily." He then chuckled, filling the room with its heart-warning sound. "Although I've grown used to death, I guess that it still bothers me if I were to spend the night where someone had been murdered." He blinked himself out of whatever memory was starting to overtake him.

He took a glance at Karen and leaned over to Jo's ear. "If she insists that we should take it, I'll assist you in dissuading her from the prospect."

He nudged Jo toward the table and caught Karen's attention. "Karen! It's nice to see you again."

Karen popped her head over the computer. "Henry, thanks for inviting me over to help."

Jo returned to her seat, and Henry pulled the one at the head of the table next to her. "As I told Mike, the more minds thinking about this, the better."

Jo laid her hands on the computer and set it in front of her again. "What else had you found?"

Karen scoffed. "Not much. The prices make me glad that Mike and I decided to buy our house instead of renting it."

Jo could feel Henry's eyes resting on her left ring finger. She turned to him in time to see him pull his lips together.

"I need to find a pair of rings for us to wear." He wiped his face. "Where am I going to find a promise ring on short notice?"

"Huh?"

He softly chuckled. "Mike and Lucas had informed me about a new courtship custom of offering a promise ring while Abe had to use the bathroom." He then looked up at her and took a deep breath. "They explained that people now consider it to be a symbol of one's love and commitment to their lover and of his or her desire to share a part of their lives with the other for as long as it will last."

He gazed into her eyes, his own hiding a tinge of nervousness. "I had wanted to use a real ring set, but they insisted that you can't tell the difference between a promise ring and an engagement ring." He huffed. "I think that one would suit our purpose." He sighed. "Everything's closed now, and this certainly cannot wait."

Jo bit her lower lip. She didn't know what Sean would think about it, but he would have done anything to keep her safe. Maybe…

"What if we used my wedding ring? You know, the one that Sean gave me?"

Henry's eyebrows turned up. "Jo, I—."

She held up her hand to silence his protest. "We're modifying your and Abigail's cover for this." She held his eyes. "I'm sure that Sean wouldn't mind if you were to claim that the ring came from you since it would be a way to protect me."

He peeked at her finger again and nodded. "We could return to your house later tonight and retrieve it and any other items that you had forgotten to pack."

She nodded. A warmth filled her chest as his suggestion calmed her. If something were to happen, he could always get help for her.

"You two are going to stay there tonight?"

Lt. Reece's question snapped Jo out of her thoughts. She craned her neck around, found her luggage, and bit her lower lip. She had packed the contents of her closet and drawers and she didn't want to lug even one of the bags back home tonight. It could make anyone riding the subway suspicious.

She felt Henry leaning against her. "Would you rather spend the night here?" His deep breath whisked a hint of cool air against her ear. "I mean, on the sofa?"

She pivoted back to Henry as he moved away from her to give her a little bit of personal space. She gazed into his eyes and nodded. It wouldn't be the first time that she had slept there. In fact, there were times where it felt more comfortable than hers.

Reminding herself of their need for an apartment, she hit the back button and found the page that she was on. She then narrowed down the list to only those on the Upper West Side. Once there, she motioned to Henry to lean over so that he could see the listings.

As she scrolled down, one apartment stood out from the rest. She clicked on the link and whistled.

"What is it?"

She ran her finger down the amenities. "A two-bed, one bath apartment with a built-in washer and dryer and walk-in closets."

She smiled. She was glad that Lt. Reece had suggested the compromise. The shop had only one bathroom. Henry didn't want to put one in the basement in case the overhead pipes leaked, and there was no room to put one in the retail space.

Not wanting to see how much the apartment cost, she steeled herself and, with her heart racing a little, found the price. Her eyes widened.

"And it has a decent rent."

"Where is it at?" Lt. Reece's presence reflected onto the screen.

Jo quickly located the address. "West 83rd Street and Central Park West."

Lt. Reece repeated the address. Suddenly, her eyes darted around the room. She sped toward her purse sitting on the island and pulled out her cell phone.

"I think that this could work." She tapped her screen and inhaled. "Hello, Derrick. It's Joanna, your cousin's neighbor. How are you doing?…. Uh, huh. Yes…. Oh, really?… Listen, I need to ask you a favor…."

Jo peered around the room as Lieu continued her conversation. She hated the thought of a stalker driving her away from the only homes that she had known, and she didn't want to think about what would happen if the stalker followed her and Henry to their new residence. Yet, uprooting her life for the man she loved eased the pain of it.

She sighed. Now, if only she could push the thought of their move feeling like a marriage out of her mind. There was no way that they were ready for _that_. Nor did she know when—or if—they would be ready.

She snuck another look at Henry. Maybe Karen was right. Maybe she was overthinking this. If she relaxed and had fun, it wouldn't be too bad. Who knew? Maybe it could change her life forever.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Henry's first (accidental) social media post is a scene that I've been wanting to write for him since almost the start of "Remember You Must Die and Live". I'm glad I finally got the chance to write it.

Due to the show's story structure, we don't get a flashback from Jo in Season 1. I thought that it would be nice for her to have one here.

Information about promise rings is from The Knot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note** : Hi, everyone! Sorry I took so long to post this chapter, but life happened. Everything is okay now, so I've been able to get back to the story. I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The last time that he had felt this way was over seventy years ago.

Henry swallowed as he watched Jo's seraphic form spend its last few minutes in blissed slumber. The wedding ring that he had first noticed around her neck graced her slender finger once again, its diamond catching the first rays of the morning sun. When he and Abigail had discussed their living arrangements after adopting Abe, he had begun to feel nervous about their lives together. Now, fate seemed intent to repeat history with Jo.

He ran his finger over the surface of one of his spare wedding bands that Abe had discovered among Abigail's belongings from her cottage in Tarrytown. Sometimes, it had seemed like a relationship between a modern farm girl from Oxfordshire and an old man from London would never work out. Yet, their marriage had lasted forty years. Forty years that he would treasure forever. His and Jo's should turn out the same way.

He shifted his gaze to the rest of the kitchen, focusing on nothing in particular. Had he just—?

"Pops?"

Henry spun around at his son's voice. "Abe." His cheeks flushed with warmth as the thought resonated in his mind.

"I caught you in thought?"

Averting his gaze to the space between them, Henry nodded.

"About Jo?" Abe crossed his arms and grinned.

"I was. I—." Henry inhaled. "I guess I'm just a little nervous about our time together."

"You'll be okay. Can I give you some advice?"

Henry sighed. He had no idea what his twice-divorced son could offer him. "Yes."

Abe laid his hands on his father's shoulders. "This is the first time that you and Jo will have to yourselves since you confessed your love for each other. If I were you, I would take this time and get reacquainted with each other as lovers."

Henry scoffed. "I believe that we already have."

"Trust me.' Abe wrinkled his nose. "After your selfies last night, I know that."

His cheeks warming, Henry averted his gaze again. He had thoroughly enjoyed taking the photographs with Jo, her body tucked tightly against his as he had held her in his arms. He was still surprised that he had managed to retain his self-restraint around her the entire time.

Abe locked eyes with the immortal. "I meant on a more personal, daily basis. Just like you and Mom had to do when I was a baby."

Henry studied his son. Abe was right. Although he and Abigail had confessed their love for each other weeks after their meeting, they had needed time to become personally acquainted with each other's living habits before they had become intimate. He and Jo had become acquainted with each other during and after work, but, aside from the four days in Paris for—to his dismay and disappointment—a case and another couple of days when he had fled to Belgium, they really had not known each other in that way.

Abe chuckled. "I'm glad you're doing this. Who knows? Maybe this will lead to something more permanent."

Henry's jaw dropped to the floor. Before any thought could fully form, Jo's bedding rustled. Henry turned in time to see her begin to stir.

He turned back to Abe and swallowed. Their time together was becoming shorter by the moment. After breakfast, he and Jo would assume their new identities and set out for the new apartment on the Upper West Side.

The older man wrapped his arms around his son, bringing Abe as close to him as possible. "I'll miss you."

Abe patted Henry's back. "Don't worry about me, Pops. I'll be fine. Besides, this is New York. We'll probably run into each other at some point during your exile."

After they pulled apart, Henry catalogued every detail of his son's face through the tears misting his eyes. He silently, and literally, prayed that they would reunite here back at the shop soon. He didn't think that he could bear even the thought of not being with Abe ever again.

"Don't forget the pictures." Abe tapped on the small box that Lucas had sleepily handed him before leaving the shop hours earlier.

"We won't."

Henry peeked at the box before leaving for Jo's side and smiled. Shortly after they had returned from Jo's townhouse, they had reviewed Lucas' alterations to the photos. Each one had been so realistic that he could have sworn that the romantic honeymoon had happened.

The sweep of Jo's arm caught the corner of his eye. He swallowed once again and hoped that their relationship would survive their time together. He certainly didn't want to ruin what he had.

###

As the entrance of the parking garage grew closer, Henry sighed. He didn't want to give up his time behind the wheel. Being able to drive again had quickened every muscle in his body and sent him into a state of ecstasy.

Feeling Jo's eyes scanning the length of his body, he willed himself to keep his mind on his task. Unable to resist the pleasure that was welling up, he glanced in the rear view mirror at her. Her eyes met his, and she grinned at him.

"What?"

She softly chuckled and waved her hand along the same route that her eyes had taken. "This. I've never seen you in a polo shirt before."

"I, um, I—." Her continued smile robbed him of his words.

"It's a change. Quite a nice one at that."

He grinned. Perhaps he should ask Arturo where he could find some the next time that he visited Paul Stuart. If his tailor didn't know, he could ask Mike where he had bought his the next time that he saw the detective.

Henry's stomach knotted at the thought of living the new identities for the rest of Jo's life and for the next approximately forty years of his. He turned his attention back to the road to avoid ruining her good mood. He stiffened his posture and drove down the ramp. The dim lights shone on the golden band on his ring finger and bounced the gleam into his eye. As tempting as it was to look at it, he forced himself to focus on getting a highly-coveted parking space. He finally found one two levels down and pulled into it.

He and Jo climbed out of the car and headed for the trunk. She grinned at him. "It doesn't look that bad, does it?"

He shook his head. "No—."

He caught his voice and scolded himself. As a part of their cover, he was supposed to have been born in Chicago and raised in Cincinnati. The only time that he had been to London, he had lived there as a part of his college's travel abroad program.

He cleared his throat and reminded himself of his accent. "No, it doesn't. It looks just the way that I imagined it."

He hoisted her luggage out of the car and handed them to her in one swift and fluid motion. As he reached for his, footsteps echoed and then faded in the garage.

"What on—?"

Holding his breath, Henry reached behind a box filled with several of Abe's pots and pans, found his satchel filled with books, and pulled it closer to his luggage. He hoped that the man who owned the voice didn't recognize them.

"What?' A female voice joined the other man's.

"I thought I recognized someone."

"Who?"

Henry rummaged around Jo's trunk to avoid looking at her. He racked his brain to see if he could place the voice, but, somehow, any familiarity eluded him.

"Just someone I knew years ago. I guess I didn't."

"They probably weren't who you thought they were. Come on. Let's get ready for your party."

Footsteps once again echoed behind Henry. Once they were satisfactorily far enough from them, he dared to check for their presence. To his relief, they had vanished.

He slowly hoisted Abe's rolling suitcase out of the trunk and set it beside Jo's car. His eyes met hers, her eyebrows upturned with worry.

"Hen—? Hank?"

"Yeah?" Adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"Do you think that we've made a mistake in coming here?"

His heart thrusted itself against his chest. "Did you see the couple or recognize their voices?"

She shook her head. "I wish they sounded familiar. It would make this a whole lot easier if they were."

" _Sounded_." Henry unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. They couldn't see her face. Judging from her dilated eyes and the slight flush in her cheeks, she had been watching him the entire time.

He peered around her, and his gaze drifted to the elevators at the far end of the area. After a moment's thought, he turned back to her. "It's too soon to tell. If we have, we will know soon enough."

Her gaze drifting down and her teeth finding her lip, she nodded. "You're right. They seemed pretty interested in their party anyway."

He found his satchel, slipped the handle over his shoulder, and removed the other rolling suitcase which Mike and Karen had loaned him. Once he closed the trunk, he offered her a lopsided smile. "Are you ready for this?"

Jo sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be."

He glanced over at his wife…..

He blinked his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't believe that he had addressed Jo in that manner. It was far too early in their courtship for either of them to contemplate matrimony. Fantasize about it occasionally like he had over the past five weeks, oh, yes. Seriously consider it…. That was a different story.

She placed a hand on her hip and motioned toward the doors. "Are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a moment—."

He rolled his tongue in his mouth as his heart pounded from the impulse. He needed to come up with a pet name for Jo. "Dear", the one that sat on his tongue, belonged to Abigail, an old soul in a modern woman. And "honey" was strictly Sean's for Jo. For Jo, he wanted something that both meant something to them and reflected her personality.

He took the handles of the two rolling cases and arranged them while he hurried to his "new bride's" side. He could decide on one later. First, though, he wanted to enter the complex, find their apartment, and get settled in. If he could not come up with one now, he could always wait until their relationship developed a little more before he would give her one.

He cast a longing look back at the car. When would he be able to drive it again? The experience was so exhilarating that he wished it hadn't ended so soon.

###

Henry parked the suitcases next to the counter and peered at the young man pacing behind it. Not wanting to interrupt the man's concentration, he peered over his shoulder and surveyed his surroundings. The lobby with a chandelier hanging over the pot in the center of the room appeared less elegant than what the online photographs had suggested. Apparently, the photographer had chosen the best lighting to hide any "defects".

Once done, he cleared his throat. The receptionist startled and took notice of them. "Can I help you?"

"Yes." He inwardly cheered at the remembrance of his accent. "Our real estate agent had shown us this apartment building, and we had applied for an apartment a few weeks ago. We were told yesterday that we could move in today."

"What are the names?"

"Hank and Jane Morgan." The names sat strangely on his tongue. He had never thought that he would use "Hank Morgan" as an alias again, and his pulse raced as he called Jo by a name which was not hers. A name that she had selected for herself because of her affinity for the televised versions of Jane Austen's works.

The young man typed on the computer for a few seconds. He then pointed at the screen and drew his finger across it. He leapt out of his seat, marched over to another set of shelves, and pulled something out of a cubby hole.

Holding a packet of paper and the cubby's contents, he walked back to the couple and slapped the packet on the counter. "I just need you to sign and date these papers, and you'll be all set."

Henry took the offered pen and, with a pounding heart that threatened to shake his usually steady hand, signed his alias. He then watched Jo sign her new name and hand them back to the receptionist. He swallowed as the man flipped through the paperwork. Once Lt. Reece had explained the situation to her neighbor's cousin, the building's superintendent, the NYPD's after-hours acquisition of the apartment had been approved very rapidly. Hopefully, nothing in their references indicated to the rest of the staff that something was suspect.

The receptionist set the papers next to the computer and jiggled the contents of his hand. "Here are your keys. In case you're interested, we have a lounge and a laundry area on the ground floor and a fitness center on the first floor, just at the end of that hallway," he pointed to an opening to their left. "We also have a rooftop swimming pool and grilling area. Our Residents' Association meets every Tuesday night at 7 PM in the lounge to discuss issues within the building. Do you have any questions?"

Henry resisted the temptation to react to the dangling set of keys. In reality, he and Jo needed to copy them in case he were to lose them through a death. It, however, would be difficult to duplicate the fobs for the amenities without attracting notice. In addition, their stalker could observe their movements through the key fobs' data….

Jo leaned over, and her warm breath brought him back to himself. "Hank?"

He took the keys. "May I ask which apartment are we in?"

The young man behind the counter smiled. "Apartment 820. Take the elevators and follow the signs, and they will lead you there."

Henry nodded his thanks to the man and took one last look at the lobby, juggling the suitcases' handles as he did so. Once they were out of the front desk's ear shot, he leaned over and placed his mouth close to Jo's ear. "This place attempts to exude opulence as a way to conceal its more modest interior upstairs."

The elevator bell dinged, and Henry and Jo stepped into it. Once the doors closed, Jo leaned against the wall. "What makes you say that?"

"The fake plants and the over-sized print of one of Claude's waterlily paintings on the wall. The sparse amount of furniture has faux leather upholstery. And the countertop and the walls are certainly not marble, but a cheap imitation."

Jo chuckled. "You're missing work, aren't you?"

He nodded. If he were to have had his way, he would be asking her out to lunch while delivering his latest findings to her right about now.

She leaned over again. "If it helps, I do too."

Before he could look at her, the elevator doors flew open. He readjusted his grip on the suitcase handles and gulped. In another few minutes, he and Jo would be starting their new lives together…and he had no idea what to expect.

###

" _Who knows? Maybe this could lead to something more permanent."_

With each step, Henry's heart pounded as erratically as it did during one of his deaths. He drew in some air as Abe's words resonated in his mind. Abe had been nudging him toward Jo since their first year of working together. Was he—?

Before he could finish the question, the apartment number appeared on the wall to his left. He fished the keys out of his pocket, stepped ahead of Jo, and swerved the suitcases against the threshold.

As he waited for Jo to catch up, he bit his lower lip in thought. They needed a way to exude the air of a young married couple who were deeply in love with each other.

One idea popped into his head. He rolled his tongue in his mouth as he deposited his satchel next to the rest of his luggage. He had never done it, at least not in a romantic manner, before. Perhaps Jo would go along with it.

She smiled at him as she drew near to him. "What?"

He unlocked the door and threw it open. "Let me take your bags."

She tilted her head and stepped up to him. "Okay…" Her voice drew out the word as she pulled off her bag.

Henry took the strap of her duffel bag and set it beside everything else. Leaning over, he lowered his voice. "It is traditional for the groom to carry the bride over the threshold."

She stared at him while she contemplated his words. He gave her a look which he hoped conveyed his desire to maintain appearances. After a few moments under her scrutiny, she nodded.

He carefully balanced her small suitcase on top of the two rolling ones and pushed the door open. He then slipped one arm around her back, tucked the other under her knees, and lifted her up off the ground. Jo gave a squeak as her feet brushed his hip. With it, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck, and her beam, the world dissolved around him.

He gazed into her eyes, and he drew her closer to him. Everything about this felt so right, so natural. It was almost as if her body had been crafted to fit into his arms perfectly.

He stepped through the doorway and into the room. Her continual gaze reached around his sense of propriety, untied the string around his more passionate nature, and released it from its prison. His breath hitched in his throat. He wanted to hold her for as long as possible. To feel her body tightly tucked against his after he sat her on the sofa. To lean over and kiss her for the first time. To…

A couple of steps later, his leg slammed into a sharp, hard object. His grip on Jo loosened, and he lowered her to the ground. He shook his head and attempted to blink his way out of the fog. Wondering what had disturbed him, he followed the direction of the collision to a glass table and pair of chairs against his leg.

Everything around him still felt fuzzy. He shook his head again to clear his mind. He had never expected holding Jo in his arms to feel this way. When he had carried her to his sofa the few times that he had brought her home from a night at the bar, it had been more of a clear-headed gesture of concern and friendship. But this…. This was different. This was more like something out of his wildest dreams of late.

He drew in a deep breath which he hoped that Jo would not notice and decided that he needed a distraction. He looked around at the white walls, the herringbone hardwood floors, the light beige rug, and the modern furniture flanking the living room. The last time that he had been in a place with similar decor, he had checked himself into a hotel in Brussels with the full intention of moving out of it within the week. It wasn't his personal style, but it would do for the duration of their stay.

Curious about the neighboring room, he peered through the entrance to the kitchen. It surprisingly looked much like Jo's, with stainless steel appliances and hardwood cabinets lining the walls and an island with a marble countertop occupying the room's center. He smiled. He could imagine himself preparing a meal for in it.

A light glinted off the surface of one of the cabinets over the stove. He gulped the moment that he discerned a dreaded over-the-counter microwave. He hoped that Jo wouldn't expect him to prepare meals in it during their entire stay.

Jo's uncanny silence prompted him to find her again. His heart raced as her eyes scrutinized his body. Her eyes landed on his, causing everything around him to fade from consciousness.

Easing around the table, he grinned at her. "Maybe you should have considered a career in acting when you were pondering your occupational choices." He was still amazed at how well she wielded her ability to conceal her identity. He had seen it before when they had worked undercover, but he had never appreciated it until now. "Even now, you would make a lovely leading lady."

Her lips parted and raised upward. "How about yourself? You with your ruggedly handsome looks, mysterious air, and English charm buried under an American accent?"

Her eyes roamed his face, erasing his thoughts and warming his body with each sweep. His knees weakened, forcing him to grasp the table to remain upright. Another moment, and he would fully be under her spell again.

She smiled even wider, and he no longer wanted to do anything apart from what she desired. Her hand grazed his bare arm just under the polo's sleeve, sending a tingle throughout his body. She found his hand, unlatched it from the table, and wrapped her hand around his.

"Come on, let's check out the rest of the apartment."

She pulled him around and closer to her. As she guided him, his vision cleared. One glance to his left revealed a TV seating on an entertainment center.

Ordinarily, he would have given the TV the same kind of thought that he had the microwave. Yet, Jo's petite hand tucked snugly into his urged him to leave any conceptions about it alone for the time being. The only thing that mattered now was her physical closeness to him.

The mid-morning sunlight streamed into the room and danced on her brown hair and her exquisite face. His breath hitched. She was certainly the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen, and he had seen many over the course of his life. From the moment that they had met, he had possessed an instant attraction to her. Over the following years, he had found himself increasingly captivated by her. Now…

She guided him to the sofa and sank down into it. Unwilling to have her leave his side, he followed her onto it.

"This is comfortable."

His eyebrows furrowed as his arm brushed against the unfamiliar feel of the back of the sofa. He glided his free hand over the narrow strip of seating between him and the arm. His eyes and mouth widened as each stroke crossed a silky surface.

He grinned and pivoted his body toward her. "It certainly is. If I were to guess, I would say that it's microfiber. The sofas that lined Paul Stuart's hallways are upholstered in the same way."

Her silence encouraged him to give her a second look. Her attention was not on him but on something behind him.

"What's this door?"

Jo stood, sending a wave of cold air toward him. She opened it, gasped, and motioned for him to follow her. His mouth widened as he peered around her shoulder at the white walls, chair, bedcovers, and accent rug. The only splashes of color came from the set of wooden drawers and the hardwood floors.

His mouth widened. "If I didn't know any better, I could swear that this was my and Nora's bedroom in the family estate…only without the floral canopy bed, the fireplace, and the table for my shaving bowl."

Jo giggled. "I was thinking that it looks like a hospital room or the OCME."

A guffaw escaped his lips. She made a very excellent point about the sparse nature of both rooms.

Henry's eyes landed on the artwork hanging on the wall. He tilted his head. It looked very familiar.

He nodded toward it. "That photograph resembles the back of my watch."

She snapped her head to him. "Really?"

He fished his watch out of his pocket and showed her the back. "See?"

She raised her eyebrows and stared at him. "You brought your watch with you?"

He nodded. "I feel naked without it."

Truth be told, he really didn't want to part with the family heirloom. Aside from his name, his scar, and his interest in medicine, it was one of the few possessions that he had been able to keep over the centuries. If he were to maintain this identity for a long period of time, he wanted a reminder of his past to keep from losing his true self again.

Jo cocked her head and pulled the timepiece closer to her to study the engraved crane and the snail in the marshes. She then looked at the picture on the wall and gaped. "It does, doesn't it? You don't suppose…?"

He shook his head as he pocketed his watch. "I don't think so. From what I had heard from my grandfather, the scene was the watchmaker's fantasy." He peeked at the image. "I believe that the picture was taken in one of the marshes in South Carolina, come to think about it."

She stepped through the door and turned to her right.

"Where are you going?"

She turned back to him. "Checking out what type of closets that we have. The web site said that we have walk-in ones, and I packed accordingly. After hearing your observations, I'm beginning to doubt that it's the truth."

He tilted his head. Should the accommodations not please her, he would find some way to bring it up to her standards. It was his husbandly duty to ensure that….

A wave of heat washed over him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants leg. Why couldn't he remember that this was only a cover? He had been able to maintain a small degree of emotional distance from Abigail before they had come together. Why couldn't he do the same now?

Jo's gasp yanked him out of his thoughts. Worried about what she had discovered, he quickly joined her side.

She refused to acknowledge his presence. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jo?"

She turned to him. She glowed as she remained motionless. "We have walk-in closets."

He gazed into the room, and his mouth fell open at the sight of contemporary shelves lining the walls and rods followed the contours of the room. It was almost twice as large as his in the shop's apartment.

Jo reached up and covered his hand with hers. "Come on."

As they exited the bedroom, she slid his arm around him. "What were you looking at earlier?"

He thought back to it. "It was our kitchen."

" _Our_."

Henry broke his gaze. Outside of suspects, victims, meals, and drinks, he had never called anything theirs before. Especially not something that could be found in a house.

Needing a distraction, Henry turned away from her. His eyes landed on the two suitcases beside the door. He really needed to retrieve the remaining belongings from her trunk. Perhaps he could find a way to reign in his emotions before they could overtake him.

###

Jo finished turning off the water, dried her hands on one of Henry and Abe's towels now hanging on the rack, and gazed around the room. If someone were to tell her that she would have a marble bathroom, she would have laughed at them.

Reminding herself that they were using the luxurious accommodations for a while, she headed for the door and walked back to the dining area's table. She smiled. Henry definitely needed to see it and the laundry room next-door when he returned from the garage.

She smiled as she opened the larger of the two boxes sitting on the surface and tugged the pots and pans out of their places. She wished that Henry could have held her longer. Everything about the way his arms wrapped around her felt as though it was designed especially for her. With each moment, she found herself wanting to remain in his arms for as long as he could hold her. Longing for them to head to the sofa and sit down. For her to snuggle close to him. For him to lean over and kiss her for the first time. For…

She sighed and shook her head out of the fog that was enveloping itself around her. The table had jarred them before he had moved too far into the apartment. There was no way for them to recapture the moment now.

She glanced at the door near the sofa, and she bit her lower lip. What had caused him to burst out of the apartment earlier? They both had been so sure that he had finally broken that habit. What if they were wrong, and their cover was causing it to return with a vengeance?

Then again, did he finally recognize the masculine voice in the garage? She had never asked him about it, but the shocked look on his face seconds before he had bolted out of the apartment suggested that he could have.

The door outside creaked open, generating enough sound to jumpstart her heart. Jo removed the rest of the cookware and maneuvered Abe's largest frying pan in her hands so that the bottom was facing out. If their stalker was coming through the door, she was ready.

She peeked over her shoulder, and her grip loosened, almost causing the pan to drop. Henry stopped near the table and laid the boxes on the table. He caught one that had become precariously perched and set it beside its mate.

Raising his eyebrows into his charming puppy-dog look, he bowed his head. "My apologies for startling you." He opened the box containing the tea set from the shop's retail space and walked the tea pot to the counter space over the dishwasher. "I didn't realize that you were lost in thought."

She cursed herself. Adam never made her feel this way, and he had watched her constantly since she and Henry had met. How did their circumstances make her become so paranoid now?

He stepped over to where they had parked their luggage. "Where do you want your belongings?"

She turned back to the other rooms and bit her lower lip. "What if I checked out the other bedroom before I decide which one I wanted? I've been too busy unpacking the pictures and the linens that I hadn't done so yet."

He dropped the handles. "Good idea."

They walked to the door beside the entertainment center. As she opened the door, Jo noticed that it was a mirror image of the other bedroom. The only difference was the abstract painting comprised of blue and green streaks hanging on the wall over the bed.

Jo stepped closer to him. "Which room did you want?"

"Lady's choice."

He took her hand and guided her back to the sofa. As she settled next to him, she bit her lower lip. Both rooms were gorgeous, almost as if they were out of magazines. She couldn't picture herself in either of them.

The sunlight bounced off the TV. She pulled her lips together. Henry probably wouldn't appreciate her late-night TV viewing if she couldn't sleep. Maybe he wanted someplace quieter.

She faced him again. "Do you mind if I took the room that we had just seen?"

"Not at all."

She looked back at the TV and gulped. This was the first time that they had been together like this. When they were in Paris and Brussels, they had spent time talking to each other, but that was about it. She knew that he liked to read, listen to music, and go to a museum or a cultural event, but she was still getting the hang of it herself. At the same time, he really hadn't been exposed to anything more modern than jazz music, karaoke night, and the old movies that she had seen on TV. She wondered if they would ever be able to find ways to spend time together. If they didn't….

She drew in a deep breath through her teeth. She needed a distraction before her imagination took her away with it.

Her eyes drifted to the pictures now sitting next on the entertainment center. She shook her head. How did Lucas know that she and Sean had planned to visit the real Taj Mahal during their honeymoon but had to cancel their reservations for their cases? How did he make Henry laugh at the sight of him in a bright red Hawaiian shirt that looked like it belonged on _Magnum, P.I._ and made her features absolutely breathtaking against the backdrop of a Hawaiian sunset? How did he know that Henry had suggested getting lost in Paris long before they had confessed their love to each other? Or that she still wished that she had taken Henry's hand and encouraged him to walk the city's streets with her instead of focusing on their case two years ago?

Her gaze migrated to her and Henry's "wedding" portrait. Tears welled up as she peered at the happy couple. When she and Sean had gotten married, they had included their families and their entourage. This time, she and Henry couldn't bring his family to the States for the wedding because his parents and siblings were dead and…..

She willed herself to breathe. This was only a cover. They weren't really married. She shouldn't be thinking that they were newlyweds.

"We haven't checked out the terrace yet."

Jo jerked her head toward Henry. "Huh?"

He nodded to a spot behind her. "Do you want to go out on the terrace before we finish unpacking?"

She mulled it over for a moment. "Yeah."

He quickly joined her side and wrapped an arm around her. Once across the apartment, he opened the door for her. Her eyes traveled the apartment-width terrace. In the corner sat a pair of chairs waiting for their occupants.

She grinned. "What if, one night, we have dinner out here? It's large enough for our table, and we can use the two chairs out here."

He rolled his tongue as he thought it over. "That's not a bad idea."

The switch in accents jarred her out of her thoughts about seeing if they could have tonight's dinner outdoors. She gulped. She had always found his American accent absolutely adorable, but she could detect a slight trace of his familiar British lilt under it. Hopefully, it was good enough to fool their stalker if they ran into them.

Searching for a distraction, she averted her gaze from their perch. She drew in a deep breath as the sight of Central Park's trees unfolded before her. "This is gorgeous."

Henry slid one arm around her and rested the other on hers. "It's very lovely."

The traffic below roared past them, but Jo didn't care. She had never thought that she would live somewhere like this. Now, she was, and she was doing it with the man whom she loved.

Their stomachs growled in almost perfect harmony. They looked at each other. They would have to add getting groceries to their tasks.

###

 **Author's Note:** ***holds out smelling salts in case anyone needs them***

Paul Stuart does sell polos, but I'm guessing Henry doesn't know that since he's usually more interested in the suits and scarves.

The details on the back of Henry's watch are from a still that I had sharpened and darkened with some photo editing software. I'm posting the picture on Twitter as a reply to the link to this chapter. (If you don't follow me on that site, look for N3GatorFan there. I always pin the latest chapter to my profile page.)

Yes, Henry knows Monet in this story. I'm not going into how, but Jo already knows.

Henry and Jo's time in Paris for a case in Season 2 is a slight head canon that I have for several stories. What else happens during their down time there varies depending on the story. (The plot for A Desired Regimen and Travel Expenses, my other mini-series, is one take on that idea.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note** : As much as even I want to see if Jenry makes it to the grocery store (because of that last chapter!), this begged to be included in the story. I hope that you'll enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Never in a million years had Mike Hanson thought that he would have to make over an immortal.

Mike strolled through the hallway, coffee in hand. A part of him was glad that he never had to do anything like that. Going on a family vacation was bad enough, with the planning, the packing, and the actual act of going to their destination without his sons driving everyone crazy. Creating a cover was a whole more complicated than he had thought. He had no idea whether he would survive the process if he were to do it for himself and his family.

Not caring about what anyone thought of him, he grinned. Then again, everyone had enjoyed watching Doc squirm at everything from description of the TV shows and movies that were playing nowadays to Karen's suggestion that explained all his knowledge without everyone raising their eyebrows at it. Abe and Jo had hinted at Doc's reaction when they had mentioned his aversion to microwaves once before. To see it happen, though? It took everything within Mike to keep him from laughing at the man's expense.

Mike's smile faded. Jo was a modern woman, and Doc was from an entirely different century. He hoped that their differences didn't cause them to get into an argument with each other and break up. They had barely survived the hunt for Adam's _pugio_. He didn't want to think about what would happen if they could agree on doing anything other than work.

Jo's desk caught his eye, and he slowed his steps. It was weird to not see his official partner sitting there, her cup of coffee in one hand and either her work or one of Doc's love notes in the other. During their entire partnership, there were only a few times in which he had noticed her absence. Most of those had been due to illness or injury, and, twice, Doc was involved. But, she was always back at work within a few days. Now, he had no idea when she and Doc would return.

He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He couldn't let anyone know about Jo's absence or his thoughts about it. If Lieu was right and they had a mole within the NYPD, they would sense that something was up, and he could single-handedly blow their entire case.

He set his cup of coffee on his desk, pulled his coat off, and put it on the back of his chair. He should go to Lieu's office and talk to her about this.

Mike knitted his eyebrows together. It was hard to believe that Doc had worked under someone at the OCME. From what he had seen in Doc's background check and what bit of it that Doc had confirmed, he had almost always jumped into a line of work following a move.

"Mike!"

He snapped his head up. "Gavin! What's up?"

"Nothing much." Detective Gavin Hunter strolled up to Mike's desk. He rubbed his thumb over his chin. "Say, do you know where Jo is? I haven't seen her this morning."

Mike raised an eyebrow and bit his tongue. What was he going to tell the other detective?

"I don't know." His blood began to freeze at the thought that was rearing its ugly head. "Why?"

"I was curious." Gavin stuck his hands on his hips.

"Maybe she decided to take her vacation now, and she…." He caught himself and bit back his mention about Doc being with her. "She wanted to get some rest from the last few months."

Gavin nodded. "Did she say when she was coming back?"

"Nope."

The fifteen-year veteran pulled his lips together. "That's funny. I thought that she would say something to you since she's your partner."

Mike pushed himself out of his chair and swerved toward the brown-haired, blue-eyed man. "Gavin, what is this about?"

The other detective met Mike's eyes and threw a hand up. "Like I said, I'm just curious. It's not like her to not be here."

"Mike."

Mike internally blew out some air. Saved by Lieu's voice.

He eased his way around and marched toward Lieu's office. As he crossed the threshold, he pushed the door shut. Lieu returned to her chair, folded her hands, and eyed him as he walked up to her desk. "Bad night after you and Karen had left the shop?"

"Bad morning so far." He placed both hands on the edge and leaned forward. "People are already asking about Jo and Doc. I'm not sure how long we'll be able to hide their absence from everyone."

"Who had asked you about them?"

"Mabel Everett had stopped me in the hallway downstairs, and Landry Hyman had asked me in the elevators. Before you called me, Gavin Hunter wanted to know where Jo was."

Lt. Reece lowered her eyes and sighed. "That makes five potential suspects in total...six, if you count Adam."

Mike's neck muscles coiled up like a snake. "Who else suspects that something is up?"

"Fletcher Colton and Dennis Winston."

Mike bowed his head. He had worked with both men before. Both had seemed to be honest and decent people. But now…

"How about the OCME? Any questions from anyone?"

Lieu shook her head. "Nothing yet. Want to bet Dr. Washington won't be one of them?"

Mike cracked a smile. The surly ME would love it if Henry were to leave the OCME behind forever.

He sobered at the thought of never seeing Doc again either and studied Lieu. "Lieu, I don't want to think that someone here would have something against Jo or Doc."

"I know. I don't either, but we still have to consider the possibility."

She glanced down at the files in front of her, closed one of them, and leaned back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap. After a few moments of silence, she trained her gaze on the detective. "I thought I knew everything about Jo."

He arched his eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "When I first began working here, I reviewed every one of her files. There's no mention of Dexter or his murder anywhere."

His knees quivered, forcing him to slide into one of the seats in front of his superior as he took in the news. Jo had lied a few times before, mostly about her whereabouts after a night of drinking and men or about Doc's immortality after he had told her about it. But she had never lied about a case.

"Lieu, we both know Jo's a fairly honest woman. If she had to hide a case, it would have to be for a good reason. Maybe she didn't work this one…."

The moment the words left his mouth, his stomach churned. He stared where the envelope had laid and swallowed. He wished that the person had thought twice about laying it on Lieu's desk. Their lives had been turned upside-down because of whatever grudge that they held against his two friends.

He left Lieu's eyes on him. Turning back to her, his eyes widened with her intense stare.

"Or she was working off the record."

Mike groaned. He could have kicked himself. Why didn't he think of that?

Off the record meant….

"She and Lt. Roarke believed that Dexter's death was linked to something major." He huffed. "Too bad Lt. Roarke moved to California. I'd bet that she would know what happened." His eyes darted to the side. "We still have Dr. Ross and Dexter's wife."

Lieu leaned forward. "I would have to go to the records room and find Dexter's and Jo's files." She looked him in the eye, and a small smile quirked on her lips. "If you hear 'officer down', it will probably be me strangling Adam if he tries anything to hurt Henry or Jo." She huffed. "I hope he's decided to take another vacation. I really don't want to have to deal with him."

"Knowing him, he wouldn't miss this for the world." Mike swallowed back the fear of a possible confrontation. "Just be careful if you have to."

"I will." Lieu eased out of her seat and headed for the door. "I need some coffee. Do you want to join me?"

He took one look at her. "No, thanks." He waved the evidence in the air. "I need to get started."

He mulled the offer over. "Save me a cup for when we go out, though. I might need it."

Lucas hung his MetroCard lanyard over the lamp, slid his messenger bag under his desk, and slowly drop into his seat. He really didn't want to come to work today. He would rather spend the day and binge-watch the latest season of several shows that he had fallen behind on. If it weren't for his need to see who he was working with for the rest of the week, he would have slept in.

He grimaced. Maybe he should have stayed home today. Tori would probably kill him if she knew that he was working with Dr. Hawthorne.

His eyes traveled to Henry's office. He swallowed. He wanted Henry and Jo back. It wasn't right for them to leave everyone. He wished that he could get his hands on their stalker and…..

He turned back to the desk. It might be better if he started his work for the day. Maybe he could take his mind off everything.

Just as he booted his computer, footsteps echoed behind him. A knock followed not too long after. He turned to see Jeff in the threshold, a folder dangling in his hand.

"Jeff? Hey, what's going on?"

Jeff walked through the doorway and made his way to the young man. He took one glance at the empty office. "Where's Henry? I need to talk to him."

Lucas stared at the other medical examiner. _No, not Jeff. He's a good guy. Come on now, Lucas, breathe. Don't let Jeff know Henry's gone_. "I don't know." He hoped that Jeff didn't notice the sweat that was gathering on his forehead or his open mouth. "What is this about?"

Jeff waved the folder in the air. "What do you remember about a NYPD Detective Dexter Chapman's death?"

Lucas' eyes traveled from the man to the folder and back again. His shoulders unwound, draining his fear with it. "What year was it?"

"2009."

"That's a little before my time." Lucas looked around the room and shifted in his seat. "You're exhuming his body?"

Jeff's eyes left Lucas. "I don't want to think that Henry made a mistake. It's just…."

"Yeah." Henry didn't make too many. "But he's human."

"I want to do right by him."

Lucas rose from his seat and patted Jeff's shoulder. "I'm sure you will."

Jeff offered Lucas a small smile. "You think?"

Lucas nodded. "Just be glad the CME didn't trust Dr. Washington with it."

Dr. Hawthorne's voice traveled through the hall. Lucas' heart sped up. He didn't want to risk Jeff decking him if he knew that they were working together.

"What is it?"

Lucas summoned his courage. "I, um, I need to get to work."

"Who are you working with?"

Lucas debated for a moment and braced himself for the worst. "Dr. Hawthorne." He threw his hands up. "It wasn't my idea, I swear! The CME—."

Jeff peered around Lucas and came back to him. A smile crossed his face. "Really? Would you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Can you get a feel of what she thinks about me?"

Lucas gaped at him. That was it?

He recovered his voice. "Yeah, sure. I can do that." He peered back in her direction. "I got to get going before she kills me for being late."

"Go."

As he headed down the hall, Lucas swallowed. He hoped that Jeff could either find something that Henry had missed or confirmed his findings. At the same time, he hoped that he could find a way to bring Jeff and Dr. Hawthorne together. Maybe they could go out on a double date once Henry and Jo get back.

Mike bit his lower lip as he made the last turn before Dr. Ross' apartment complex in Morningside Heights. "You know, it's kind of weird that Jo doesn't remember seeing him at any of the crime scenes before. She usually has a great memory for names and faces."

"She did say that she hadn't thought much about her part of her life." Lieu stared out the window. "It makes me wonder why." She turned to him. "Do you remember seeing Dexter anywhere?"

He reviewed every crime scene since his graduation from the police academy and shook his head. "Dexter wasn't at any of the scenes that I've worked." He glanced over at his superior. "What about you?"

"Nothing." She sighed.

He found a spot and whisked into it before a driver coming up behind him could have a chance. As the other driver sped by, Mike got out and whistled at the facade of the modest apartment building.

"With the amount of money that Dr. Ross earned as an ME, I figured that he would live somewhere…." Mike wasn't sure how to phrase it. The complex was almost like his before he and Karen had kids.

"Somewhere fancier."

He stared at Lt. Reece. There were days in which he swore that she knew the real-life Sherlock Holmes while Doc was dealing with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

She smiled. "My guess: either he's run into money problems before he retired or he's like Henry and likes to live modestly."

They approached the lobby's door, and Mike let his boss pass through the entrance in front of him. "Modest? Are we talking about the same Henry Morgan here? Come on, now. The guy shops at Paul Stuart and got himself a few new pairs of jeans at 3x1."

"What? Henry owns some jeans?"

Mike's cheeks grew warm. It was a good thing that Doc and Jo weren't there to hear that. If they were, he would face one of Doc's murderous glares…at best.

"He picked them up for their first date. His tailor talked him into it."

"You're kidding right?"

"Nope."

They found the desk, and Mike walked up to the receptionist at work on the computer. The woman peered up from the screen. "What can I do for you?"

He reached up and grasped his badge hanging over his tie. "NYPD. We're here to talk to a Dr. Talbert Ross. Can you tell us which apartment he lives in?"

"Let me see here." She tapped a few keys.

Mike peeked back at Lieu. She nodded and took in the artwork and the plants in the lobby. He glanced around. Then again, he could be wrong about the complex. In a way, it remained him of Paul Stuart, just not as nice as the store.

"Detective?"

He whipped his head back. "Yes?"

"Dr. Ross is in apartment 512."

"Thanks."

He joined his superior and motioned her to come with him. She smiled. "This place is nice. I might be interested in moving here when I retire."

They found the elevators. As they neared the doors, one opened, inviting the two investigators to come in. They bypassed it and continued to the stairs.

Lieu's words tumbled in Mike's mind as they mounted the steps. Jo and Doc's absence was already disturbing. But Lieu's…

He glanced back at her. "I hope that you're not retiring soon."

Her unusual smile offered some hope. "I have too many cases to supervise before I even think about retiring. And I still need to ensure that a certain ME doesn't find himself facing someone insane enough to experiment on him."

Mike nodded as they rounded the handrail and hiked up the last flight of stairs. That idea scared the living daylights out of him. Ever since he had learned of Doc's immortality and the "treatments" that he had received in the asylums, the detective had braced himself for a call from Abe or Jo telling him that Doc had been kidnapped by a company or secret government agency interested in aging research and immortality. If what Mike had seen on TV was any indication, he didn't want to think about what could happen to the immortal if his secret was discovered.

The fifth floor door swung into a nondescript hallway with doors on either side. Mike followed the numbers to the apartment in question. As he approached the door, Lieu, in one swift step, moved to the other side of the threshold. He smoothed his tie, raised his fist, and rapped on the door. "Dr. Talbert Ross?"

"Just a moment!" A gruff voice rose over the creaks of the sofa and the conversation coming from what sounded like the TV.

Mike tapped his foot. If he didn't know any better, the man sounded like Abe when his sciatica bothered him.

A moment later, the door cracked open. A face with a noticeable receding hairline under the white hair peeked out at them behind the latch. "Who's there?"

Mike flashed his badge. "Detective Mike Hanson and Lt. Joanna Reece. Can we come in, Dr. Ross?"

The man unlatched the door and swung it open. "Come on in."

As Dr. Ross led them to the living room, Mike surveyed the apartment. He had imagined that the ME would be interested in hardwood floors, granite countertops, and modern looking furniture. Instead, the small apartment reminded him of the one that he and Karen had lived in before they had discovered that she was pregnant with their youngest son…only with newer furniture.

Dr. Ross shuffled to the TV playing an older looking show set in a morgue, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV. "Sorry about that. I was in the middle of an episode of _Quincy_."

Mike stared at the TV. "I thought that you would be sick of work after twenty-five years at it."

"I've been retired for seven years now, and I still think about it every day. I guess that it never leaves you."

Mike nodded. That could explain why Doc acted like a doctor at times. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, there were days in which he missed the ability to heal the living and the thrill of being in the emergency department.

Dr. Ross gestured toward the sofa while he grunted and eased into the nearby chair. "What's this about?"

Mike and Lieu found their seats. Mike propped his elbow on the sofa's arm. "What do you remember about Dexter Chapman?"

"Dexter Chapman, Dexter Chapman." Dr. Ross stroked his chin and then whipped a finger into the air. "Ah, yes. The 35-year-old homicide detective who was found near Summit Rock in Central Park in June of 2009." He tsked. "It's a shame that the case was never solved. Why do you ask about it?"

Lieu folded her hands in her lap. "Do you remember a Dr. Henry Morgan?"

"Henry?" Dr. Ross' voice broke, and his Adam's apple bobbed. "Is anything wrong?"

Lieu studied the man. "We hope not." She sighed. "Did you find anything unusual on Dexter's body?"

Dr. Ross shook his head. "Henry and I found nothing but a 9 mm wound in Dexter's chest over his left breast. We, or rather Henry, believed that it could have been created by either a stiletto or a hat pin. He was sure that Dexter was murdered, but, since the police did not recover a weapon, we had to rule it as a suspicious death."

Mike broke his gaze and bit his lower lip. Doc had been wrong only a few times before. Was this another time?

He summoned his courage. "Do you think there was a possibility that a 9 mm bullet could have caused Dexter's death?"

Dr. Ross leaned forward. "I'm pretty sure that it wasn't. We would have found it lodged in Dexter's chest. Given Henry's tendency to find evidence in the strangest locations, he would have found it while I was cutting into Dexter's body."

 _That sounds like Doc_.

Lieu moved a little closer to the edge of her seat on the sofa. "What led Henry to the conclusion that it was a murder?"

Dr. Ross chuckled. "Honestly, I'm not sure. The boy always worked some sort of magic when he made his observations. He did point out the lack of blood at the scene and suggested that Dexter's body could have been dumped there."

His conversation with Lt. Reece faded into his memory. Mike bit his lower lip. "Do you remember a Detective Jo Martinez?"

The elder medical examiner's eyes darted from one investigator to another. "Brown hair and eyes, about five, nine, likes to wear scarves in the winter?"

Mike tentatively nodded. Maybe Lieu and Doc weren't the only ones to know the man Doc called Arthur.

Dr. Ross smiled. "Brilliant young lady, and, honestly, one of the few detectives whom I enjoyed expounding our method to the madness of forensic medicine to. To be honest, sometimes, I wondered if she had chosen the wrong career. She would have made an excellent forensic pathologist."

Lieu's eyes swallowed. "Had she come by the OCME around the time of Dexter's death?"

Dr. Ross tilted his head, and his gaze darted from her to Mike. "She arrived at the scene shortly after we were called in. I took her aside while Henry further assessed Dexter's body, and I told her what we had found so far. She said that she would drop by the OCME and follow up on the case."

Mike and Lieu exchanged looks, and he swallowed back his fear. She wouldn't leave that out on purpose, would she?

The older ME's sigh beckoned Mike back. "I expected her to drop by the OCME a couple of days later, but she never showed up. I eventually delivered our findings to a Lt. Roarke upstairs. She took one look at it, and I had heard nothing about it until today."

Mike took a deep breath and willed himself to focus on Dexter. "Did you ever see Dexter at scenes?"

The older man who reminded Mike of a cross between Santa Claus and the self-proclaimed "most interesting man in the world" pursed his lips. "I have a couple of times when he was the lead in cases. He usually talked to the witnesses while Henry and I examined the body. The only time that I remember him coming by, it was about a year before his death. After he left, Henry, who had come back from taking a sample to the lab, complained that, if everyone insisted on doing our job, they were welcomed to do it as long as they earned their medical degrees first."

He studied them, his eyes piercing into Mike's soul. "If you don't mind my asking, do you suspect Henry of killing someone? I can assure you that he's a good man. If he has killed anyone—."

Lieu threw her hand up. "Dr. Ross, he's not a suspect." She pinched her lips together for a second. "We're hoping that he won't become a victim himself."

Mike shot her a look. After the warning that she had given him and Lucas—

Lieu gave him a warning look in return. Any idea of challenging her vanished as he shrank back in his seat.

Dr. Ross sighed and slapped his hands on his lap. "You know, I've always worried about him. I could understand why he refused to talk to the families; some of the cases had hit me hard as well. He was always the first to come to work and one of the last to leave. From the last that I have heard, he had an elderly roommate whom he always worried about, but he had no one closer to his age to talk to. On my last day at work, I encouraged him to get out of the morgue and to experience everything that life has to offer."

Lieu softly smiled. "It seems like he's taken your words to heart."

Mike's eyes drifted slightly past the ME in an attempt to keep the man from seeing his reaction. That came after three years of working with Lucas, one train crash, one psychopathic immortal stalker, who knows how many arrests for "naked sleepwalking", four big reveals, and several instances that everyone hoped he would never go through ever again.

"One of the proudest days of my life," Dr. Ross continued, "was when Henry had succeeded me as a deputy chief medical examiner. From the moment he had first walked into my office in 2008, I knew that he had talent." He chuckled. "Which is more than what I can say for one of the new assistant MEs whom I had seen as I was leaving. Lucas, I think his name was. He talked nonstop about aliens, vampires, and _Highlander_ , and he wanted to use the morgue as his own personal film studio _._ It would be a miracle if he survived his first week of working with the OCME."

Mike bit back his laugh. "I hate to disappoint you, but he is still working there. _And_ he's partnered with Henry."

Dr. Ross buried his face in his hand. "Oh, dear. Please, no."

Holding back her own giggle, Lt. Reece leaned forward. "They are quite well-matched, and they make a formidable team."

The older man looked up at them. "You're kidding me, right?"

Mike shook his head. "He's even dating someone now."

Dr. Ross grinned. "That's excellent! She must be someone special."

"She is."

 _Girlfriend. Wife. Dexter._ "Did you speak with Dexter's wife Megan?"

Dr. Ross nodded. "Yes, I had. She had mentioned that he had seemed to be withdrawn the day before he was murdered. She tried to talk to him, but he refused."

"Who else did you speak to about Dexter's death?"

Dr. Ross stroked his chin again. "That's the odd thing. No one else seemed interested in it. It was almost as if he were one of our homeless clients or someone else. You would figure that the death of a member of the NYPD would mean more to the people upstairs."

The door creaked open. "Dad?"

Dr. Ross snapped his head up as the door slammed shut. "In here, honey." He looked back at the two investigators and beamed. "Another one of my proudest moments."

A moment later, a red-haired, hazel-eyed woman strolled into the living room, spotted Mike's badge, and faced her father. "Is everything okay?"

He smiled and nodded. "Just talking about an old case and reminiscing about an old friend and old times." He hugged her. "Everything's okay."

He held a hand out toward the young woman. "This is my daughter Samantha. She has been helping me out since my back surgery three years ago." He looked around the room. "This is her apartment."

Mike's eyes widened. He didn't see that coming.

Sensing that it was time to leave, he rose from his seat. "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Ross."

The ME held out his hand for a shake. "The pleasure's been mine." He took Lieu's hand. "If you see Henry again, give him my regards and tell him congratulations on finding someone special."

Mike smiled. "We will."

As they began to ease out of the apartment, Dr. Ross' last words to them tumbled in Mike's head. He swallowed. He had no idea when they would see Henry again…or if they ever would.

The sun shone through the clouds and warmed Mike's face as they walked to the car. Perhaps, when they were done with the case, he and Karen could arrange for a sitter and take the day off. They hadn't had a picnic in a very long while. Or, they could just go to a hotel by themselves and spend the day there.

" _If you see Henry again…"_

Mike sobered. First, though, he had to ensure that they could see Doc and Jo again.

He peered over the car's roof at his superior and got in. The moment Lieu closed her door, he turned to her. "So, what do you think?"

Lieu sighed. "I'm not too sure." She fastened her seatbelt and kept her focus on the car parked ahead of them. "Jo wouldn't lie about talking to Dr. Ross. Perhaps something happened to make her suppress the memory."

Mike pulled out of the parking spot. "Or she could have injured, and it keeps her from remembering what had happened."

He huffed. "Why wouldn't the NYPD be interested in Dexter's death? I mean, he was one of us. His death should have brought the entire force on the killer's butt."

"That's what I would like to know. Maybe Henry and Jo will remember something."

"Maybe."

Mike bit back a laugh at Dr. Ross' confirmation of Doc's and Jo's presence at the scene. He shook his head. How many times had the pair been that close to each other and didn't realize it?

"What do you think Henry and Jo are doing now?"

Lieu's voice sliced through Mike's thoughts. He cocked his head. "Are you worried about them?"

She looked at him. "Not really. I'm just wondering." She smiled. "They're probably enjoying their time alone."

He wrinkled his nose. "I'm thinking they're trying to unpack all their stuff. Abe probably loaded them down with all sorts of pots and pans. I'm surprised he didn't pack the kitchen sink."

As they imagined what was happening, Mike relaxed. Hopefully, the couple would find some time to enjoy themselves during this time. They were going to need it if and when they remembered the events of that fateful day.

 **Author's Note:** Henry's and Jo's covers will be explained in the next chapter. I think you'll like them. In the meantime, Lt. Reece is not privy to Mike finding Henry's jeans since she

I am taking a little liberty with the gap between Dr. Ross leaving the OCME and Lucas starting his work with Henry. I thought that it would be nice if they overlapped.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note** : I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

"Well, this is quite charming."

Jo pulled herself closer to Henry and laid her hand on his chest. Her fingers resting over the long-knotted skin forming his scar almost seemed to breathe life back into the dead nerves near his heart and set them on fire. His breath hitched in his throat. He gathered everything within him and stopped himself from asking her if they could turn around and return to the apartment for some additional time together. The way that he was feeling, he would rather have her continual presence by his side than food itself.

The sound of a multitude of motors nearby beckoned him back to the shores of sensibility. He reluctantly obeyed its call and swam his way back to reality. He resisted the instinct to blink and shake himself out of his pleasure-induced haze. It had been ages since he had last felt this way, and he didn't want to lose the sensation that had washed over him and had swept him out into familiar waters.

Realizing that he had never commented on Jo's observation, Henry used the few moments at the intersection to take in their surroundings. She had chosen their new neighborhood well. The townhouses lining the streets and the apartment complexes with first-floor storefronts resembled a mixture of the Lower East Side, East Harlem, and Washington Heights, with a touch of Morningside Heights thrown in for good measure. The Museum of Natural History and the planetarium were within walking distance…as well as a Metro stop that could whisk them wherever they pleased. And Central Park on their doorstep? When he had lived in the vicinity, he had always selected an apartment complex several blocks from the open space out of the necessity of blending in. He had never imagined that he could simply cross the street to enter it whenever he pleased.

He scoffed, grinned, and pulled her closer to him. "I think that we are going to like it here."

The light changed, signaling their ability to cross. Henry pulled his lips together. Since their discussion about his condition three years ago, he had almost always been honest with Jo. His inability to use his real accent around her in public rend his heart in half. He wished that their stalker didn't chain him to an old behavior that he had hoped was gone forever. If only they could find their way out of their predicament….

Jo's fingers tenderly traced his scar, and the pleasure-filled haze obscured his worries to the point of oblivion. His shoulders loosened, draining the momentary tension and sending it far away from his body. In its place, a warmth arose in his chest that began to shield him from the late-spring chill.

A blue canopy arching over the sidewalk to shelter customers from the elements greeted them. Although the yellow words proclaimed that the store was "A Little Taste of Europe", it bore little resemblance to any shop that he had seen during his travels. The only things that appeared remotely authentic were the tables of carefully-arranged flowers and the newsstand flanking the door.

Jo giggled as she leaned against him. "You're spoiling me on our trips to Europe. This looks nothing like the shops that we've seen in Paris and Brussels. If anything, this looks more like the _bodega_ back in my old neighborhood."

"My thoughts exactly."

She pulled away from him, drawing a blast of cold air between them. Henry shuddered and quickened his pace at the sight of the open door. The faster that they could finish their task, the sooner that they could return to each other.

They located the shopping carts to the left of their entrance. While Henry wrangled one out for Jo, he peered at the flowers on the other side of the window. Any of the bouquets appeared elegant enough to grace their table during a romantic dinner. Perhaps he could surprise her with a bouquet one day.

"At least you don't have to go without your morning paper."

He gave her a cart and returned to the caddy for his. He rolled his tongue in his mouth and calculated the distance between the grocer and the apartment. Although he would love to catch up on current events daily, he should forego one of his favorite activities. The distance was too far for his personal comfort. Their stalker—or even Adam—could hide themselves among the surrounding buildings or just inside one of the businesses along his route. They could determine where he and Jo were residing from his morning ritual and could follow him back. Should he leave one morning, their stalker could use the opportunity to attack Jo…or worse.

He shook his head. "I can always read it online."

His eyebrows turned up as she stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. He hoped that his expression conveyed his plea for her to go along with it. He highly disliked the ever-changing reports that he had seen during the few times that he had been on the Internet recently. He rather preferred the more settled stories which the wires supplied the newspapers after the event.

She bit her lower lip and nodded her acceptance. His heart wrenched within him. He had no intention for his sacrifice to wound her. He wished that he had never seen their images beside each other. Perhaps, if he had ignored the photograph altogether, they wouldn't be in this mess.

He shoved his feelings on the topic aside. He shouldn't let his guilt occupy his thoughts. As Abigail and Abe would say, there was nothing that he could do to reverse the events that had transpired. He needed to focus on what he must do now to bring any order to the chaos.

He surveyed the layout of the aisles that spread out before him. Right now, that was getting groceries.

He found Jo standing next to one of the aisles and quickly joined her side. "I hope that I haven't kept you waiting."

She grinned as she pushed herself out of her lean. "I know you well enough to know that look you get every time you're lost in thought."

She pointed her cart toward the store's interior and scanned it for herself. A few seconds later, she faced him. "Which way do you want to go?"

He directed her to the right. "This is the way that A—."

His throat seized the moment that he caught his words. He couldn't bring himself to utter the explanation that he had later learned had been Maureen's for his and Abe's relationship either. He had reluctantly agreed to Abe's suggestion to do so if they had ever encountered each other while in town, but he couldn't bear to deny his son in public again.

Jo laid her hand on his shoulder and leaned over until her lips almost brushed against his ear. "Your and Abe's usual route."

His eyes widened, and he shooed away the impulse to pivot to her. Wanting her to have a response, he nodded.

"Mine too."

She parted from him. He studied her as she pulled herself to his side. He had never thought of asking her about her preference before they had crossed the threshold.

He kicked himself. He was sliding back into the habits that he had when he and Jo were still friends. How could he have forgotten to be heedful to her wants and needs instead of his own?

He squared his shoulders and vowed to himself that he would be more attentive to her. He wanted their relationship to last as long as possible, and he had no intention to destroy it through his selfishness.

They headed down the aisle abutting the wall. One glance at the baby products, and his arms ached to hold another child. Babysitting Armen Aronov's grandson until his grandmother had arrived had been an exhausting but delightful experience. Mike and Karen's sons, although rascals in their father's eyes, always brought some light into his life. Abe had been a delight in his youth, an aspect that had him seriously considering Abigail's proposal of adding to their family in spite of his knowledge of the child's future before he had agreed to it. And the few times that he had spent with Jo while babysitting or interacting with children had shown him a maternal side of her which she had kept hidden from the world. What if…?

"Sir?"

Henry blinked and let the other customer pass him. He drew a deep breath. It was only a month ago when his desire for children had been fully rekindled. He should wait and see where his and Jo's relationship would go before he could think about it.

Turning his attention to the other side of the aisle, he scanned the shelves. Abe would be grocery shopping later this afternoon, and his son would pick up some toothpaste for him then. Since he couldn't pack it, now would be the perfect time to pick up the toiletry.

Once the carton was securely in the top of the cart, he rejoined Jo. He peeked into her cart and grinned. How was it possible that they liked the same brand of toothpaste? As far as he knew, she had never seen inside his medicine cabinet before, not even when she had searched his and Abe's residence years ago.

He gazed into her brown eyes. There was so much more to her than what he knew. Mysteries that she had guarded from others. Mysteries that prodded his curiosity like her relative lack of unique identifiers had when she had first walked into his morgue. Mysteries that were begging him to solve them.

Remembering himself, he took a step forward. Jo slid her cart next to his. As they drew near the end of the aisle, a row of coolers emerged. HIs hands almost slipped off the handle. He didn't want to humiliate her or himself with a very sharp disagreement over something as ridiculous as food.

They pulled up to the frozen food section. She removed several frozen dinners out of the freezer's depths and set them in the cart.

He gulped as he warily eyed the boxes. He had never thought that she would select those since she _**knew**_ that he could cook. Then again, she certainly wasn't planning for him to eat one...was she?

She cocked her head as she balanced two more boxes in her hand and pushed the door closed with her hip in one graceful motion. "What?"

He wrinkled his nose at the unpalatable food. "I'll try one of those…on one condition."

Her eyes widened, and she opened and closed her mouth several times. "And that is?"

His eyes met hers. "If you would let me cook sometime."

He waited for the perfectly valid argument that microwaves destroyed both people's time and the food's nutritional content to escape from his lips…

…but, strangely, it didn't come. It was almost as if the objection had been swept away for the moment.

She studied his face and considered his proposal. "Okay." She glanced down, and her cheeks turned red. A moment later, she offered him a small smile. "I wasn't thinking…."

His heart lurched. Had he somehow humiliated her without intending to do so?

His cheeks flushed while the incident replayed in his head. He dropped his eyes to his empty cart. Could his old-fashioned ways…?

Feeling her eyes on him, he returned his attention to the rest of the store. He hoped that the rest of the trip would go far more smoothly than it had already.

* * *

How did shopping with Henry become so perplexing?

Jo wished for a piece of spearmint gum as Henry picked up a bottle of cleaning solution and set it in his cart. She had thought that she knew him pretty well. When she had gotten some frozen dinners and again when he had chosen to go online— _ **online**_ —for his news, she had begun to feel that she didn't know him at all all over again.

" _You know, Henry, I thought that I was a tough nut to crack, and I mean this with true affection…you are one perplexing man."_

She looked back at him as he cradled a pack of gloves and reached for some sponges. He had been an even tougher nut to crack then, with all the secrets, lies, and half-truths that he had felt were necessary to protect himself from her. Her comment had prompted him to let down his guard long enough to suggest that he had been alive for centuries. After a few more cases and one very confusing couple of days after the events of the Fort Hamilton station's abandoned tunnel, he had finally opened up to her and let her into his life forever.

She drew her courage from that memory and smiled. She had always enjoyed a good mystery. The more perplexing, the better. Her boyfriend definitely posed one of the biggest ones she had ever faced. And she found herself looking forward to solving his.

Henry peered down the aisle. "Where to next?"

She peeked into the carts. They had already picked up most of their supplies for the next few days. The only things that they needed were water, some bread, some wine, and the produce.

Her eyes landed on his covered scar, and the store grew hot. Maybe they should just leave now and….

Conversation in the other aisle broke through her thoughts. She shook her head and glanced around the store to regain her bearings.

"How about the drinks and the bakery?" She held his gaze and smiled as he opened his mouth in a protest. "They're right next to each other. We can cover more territory if we split up."

He bit his lower lip and considered her words. "We can meet back at the wines."

"Agreed."

She stepped up to him. Within the next breath, she realized how close she was. She gazed into his brown eyes, and her heart raced against the butterflies in her stomach.

She glanced down at his lips and back up into his eyes. She felt herself drawn to him. She didn't care where she was. All that mattered was for her to be as close to him as possible. To feel his lips on hers….

The squeak of a cart's wheels jarred her out of her trance. She blinked and shook her head as she reluctantly headed back to her cart. Ever since she had laid her hand on his chest, she had found herself having less interest in shopping and more desire in hurrying back to the apartment and spending as much time with him as possible.

And her fingers tracing his scar? Her breath hitched in her throat. She didn't know why, but she could feel a tingle in her hand every time that she brushed the dead scar tissue that was hidden under his shirt. One that made her come alive with every sweep.

They rounded the corner, and the sound of his cart faded into the distance. Her heart ached when they completely disappeared. She instantly regretted her decision to split up. She should have stayed beside him and waited as he found his water and placed the pack into his cart.

The bread rack caught her eye. She pushed her cart closer and inspected the variety of breads on the shelves. Each one looked tempting. She could take one of each and take the loaves with them.

She reviewed what they had picked up so far. Henry had mentioned several dishes that, from her past dinners with him and Abe, were absolutely delicious. She quickly found the bread that they had eaten then and put the loaf in the top of the cart.

She moved over to the nearby desserts. She wished that she knew how to bake blueberry scones. Abe kept a batch of dough in the freezer in case Henry got a craving for them or if either Morgan man needed some comfort food. Knowing this move was stressing him out, maybe a taste of home would help him relax.

She took another look at the store-made ones. She found a box, looked it over, and tucked it under the bread. They weren't as good as Abe's, but she hoped that Henry would enjoy them just the same.

Remembering that he was supposed to meet her at the wines, she hurried to the aisle. Moments later, she heard footsteps behind her. She peeked over her shoulder, and her body relaxed.

Henry gave her a lopsided grin. "It appears that we had the same idea."

"What's that?" She stopped so he could catch up.

"Taking more time than we thought to make our way to the wine aisle."

"You don't—." She cocked her head. He usually knew exactly what he wanted. He only took a longer time to decide on something either when he was finding a scarf to wear or….

Wanting to test her theory, she peeked into his cart. Sure enough, he had found several bottles of a different brand of water than what he was accustomed to.

She met his eyes. "You couldn't make up your mind which one you wanted." He had taken what had then felt like an eternity selecting a beer at the karaoke bar their first year of working together. After he had told her about his immortality, she had connected it to his taste for the finer things in life.

He sheepishly bowed his head. "I shouldn't be selective when it comes to an essential beverage. It's just…."

His fading voice broke her heart. He was really missing being home with Abe.

She glanced at the scones. She hoped that seeing them would make him feel better.

Henry squared his shoulders and gave her another smile. "Shall we continue our shopping?"

He stepped closer to her, erasing her worries for him. Her chest filled with warmth. The faster that they finish this, the sooner that they could spend some more time together.

She stepped forward toward the wines. "Let's do this."

She eyed him as they advanced toward their destination. She admitted that she had another mystery on her hands. What was it about him that made her want to explore their relationship even more than she had before?

* * *

Jo bit her tongue and leaned over her cart. The woman ahead of them slowly pulled out each item and set them on the counter. She had seen the other woman take them from the shelves like a normal person. Why did she insist on wasting everyone's time?

Ahead of her, she could almost hear Henry Sherlocking their fellow customer to accurately determine the reason for the woman's slowness. Knowing him, he was also debating whether to turn on his charm and convince her to pick up her pace.

Jo checked the time on her phone and swallowed. She wanted to get back to the apartment before her frozen meals thawed out. If Henry cooked—.

She closed her eyes. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten that he cooked.

Her stomach rumbled, and her eyes found him again. Lunch would be their first meal without Abe around, and….

Her heart lurched. To be honest, she was missing the younger Morgan already. She wasn't sure what she would do if she couldn't see him again.

"Taking forever, isn't it?"

She spun around at the new masculine voice. A well-dressed couple blocked the other customers' access to the baby food and health products.

"It is." Whoever was in front of them must have assumed that they all were immortal.

The other woman narrowed her eyes, scrutinized him for a moment, and laid eyes on Jo. Jo froze as the other woman furrowed her eyebrows. Did this stranger recognize them from somewhere?

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Before Jo could answer her, the cashier read the total. She turned in time to see Henry's hand leave the counter and reach for the first item in his cart.

Her eyes went straight to the candy on display. Her mouth fell open. He had never been a fan of candy. What had possessed him to get something from the shelves under the register?

The cashier smiled at Henry. "Looks like someone's been working out. You want to go out for drinks tonight?"

A warmth flooded Jo. Before Henry could open his mouth, she lunged toward the other woman.

"That's my husband you're flirting with!"

The other woman stared at her, and Jo shrank back. She wasn't sure which was more startling: her willingness to make a scene or the ease that the word "husband" had slipped out of her mouth.

The cashier raised her eyebrows. "All of this is…?"

Jo followed the confused look on the other woman's face. She gulped at her half-empty cart and his four bags sitting in two of Abe's totes. It did look strange for them to have more space than what they needed.

"We're together." Henry waved his finger between them and smiled. "We're newlyweds."

"Congratulations." The man behind them cheered. "How long have you been married?"

"A month and a half."

As Henry turned to face the other couple, Jo set the scones on the counter. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice them. She wanted them to be a surprise.

The man cleared his throat and swung his cart over to them. "I don't think that we have been properly introduced. My name is Nick Lane, and this is my wife, Lisa."

Jo laid the last item on the counter, brushed back a strand of hair, and twisted toward them. "Jane and Hank Morgan."

The names scattered her thoughts. Although she had used an alias before for a case—and had portrayed Eliza Doolittle in her grade-school production of _My Fair Lady_ —hers sounded so strange to her ears. And her name being joined to Henry's…

"Morgan?"

Nick's deliberate pronunciation of Henry's last name sent a cold chill down Jo's spine. Her mind raced through the cases that they had worked on. She didn't remember ever interviewing a Nick Lane before.

"You're not related to J. P. Morgan, are you?"

Jo bit back her laughter. Mike had asked Henry the same question when he had learned about Henry's immortality. According to him, he had been shocked to learn that Henry had never even met the man or anyone in his family, let alone being one of the entrepreneur's ancestors.

Henry bowed his head and smiled. "He's my third-great-grandfather. But I'm afraid that my family and I didn't inherit any of his money…."

She grinned as she watched the cashier bag the last of the groceries. She needed to thank Mike for his foresight later. His observation when they had told him their aliases had made Henry's cover much more credible.

Her stomach dropped at the thought of her professional partner and friend. She might not see him, Karen, or the boys ever again.

While the cashier rang up the total, Jo motioned to Henry so he could pay the bill. She swallowed as he pulled out the necessary cash out of his wallet. She hoped that no one would see it and rob them—or, worse yet, kill him and attack her—on their way back to the apartment.

Remembering Lisa's question, she inserted her bags into the two empty totes in Henry's cart, pushed the spare cart back to its place next to the door, and turned back to Lisa. "We've just moved in today."

Lisa joined her beside the cart caddy. "We live in The Viele, apartment 805."

Jo's eyes widened. "We're in 820."

Her heart pounded in her chest. She willed herself to focus on Lisa. Their stalker could know that they were onto him if she let her emotions showed.

"You'll like it there. There are so many things for a young couple like yourselves to do." Lisa tilted her head. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an online literature tutor, and Hank's an online travel consultant specializing in families and couples." Karen had suggested them as a way to explain why they would rarely leave the apartment for work. That, and to explain Henry's wide range of knowledge on almost everything without everyone giving him an odd look.

Jo swallowed. Hopefully, Lisa wouldn't ask her a question about literature. Henry was more of the expert in that field. If he hadn't read a particular story, he had likely known the author before they had become famous.

Lisa smiled and smoothed her suit, almost reminding Jo of Lieu. "I work as an investment banker for New Horizons Bank." She nodded toward her husband. "Nick is an architect for New Amsterdam Builders."

Jo nodded. She had heard of several of their projects. One of them, within walking distance of her old apartment complex on East 116th Street in East Harlem, had been a pre-war tenement building that had been converted into a luxury condominium complex a decade before.

Nick arrived with Henry, both men carrying their wives' bags. Nick nodded at Lisa. "You're ready, honey?"

Jo's heart ached. She didn't have a pet name for Henry yet. Then again, she didn't have enough time to think of a better one than "Mr. Darcy". The name never really fit him. To make matters worse, a Jonathan D'Arcy had bullied Henry when they were kids, and Jonathan's father and Henry's father Robert had a major rivalry that extended to their individual shipping companies.

And "dear" was her pet name for Sean. She couldn't possibly give Henry that one.

Henry handed her two totes, his fingers grazing her palm and sending a tingle up her arm each time. As she arranged the handles in her hands, she bit her lower lip. If she couldn't think of one now, she could always give it to him later.

Lisa turned back to the couple. "Do you want to walk back to the apartment with us?"

Jo raised her eyes and opened and closed her mouth several times. She had never received that type of invitation before, not even when she had moved into her townhouse in Washington Heights.

Once she regained control of her thoughts, she looked at Henry. She wanted follow his lead. The war between her paranoia, her natural skepticism, and her willingness to trust even strangers was making her unusually unable to accept the Lanes' invitation. If he had observed something that made him uncomfortable, they should take another route back.

On the other hand, it would be nice to get to know some of their new neighbors. Making friends with Lucas and with some of Abe's fellow antiques dealers had helped to make her feel more comfortable around them. Maybe doing the same with her and Henry's neighbors would help her relax if they were to remain here indefinitely.

Henry cocked his head and studied her for a moment. He then turned back to them. "Yes, we would love to go back with you."

As they started out the door, Jo's stomach flipped. She trusted Henry and his instincts 110 percent. Something about their stalker, though, felt off. She vowed to herself that they would get down to the bottom of this…even if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

The bags weighed heavily in Jo's hands, forcing her to trudge down the sidewalk. She resisted the urge to groan. The walk to the store had been too short for her liking. Why did it feel long now?

Something tapped her upper arm. She followed it to Henry's outstretched hand. She tilted her head, and her eyes widened at the sight of a pack of spearmint gum being offered to her.

She blinked and met his eyes. How did he always seem to read her thoughts? Even when they had first met, he had known that Hans Koehler's story had hit too close to home, and he had spirited her away from the suspect's garage before her grief had overwhelmed her.

She and Henry stopped long enough for her to set her totes down and remove a piece from its place. She popped it in her mouth, closed her eyes, and let the flavor melt her worries away.

She met his eyes again as they resumed their walk. "Thanks, I needed that."

He smiled. "Anything for you."

Lisa arched her eyebrows. "Gum?"

Jo tucked her gum against her side of her cheek. "I gave up smoking years ago." Back when she had first met Sean. He was the one who had talked her into channeling all of her frustrations into running.

She lowered her eyes. She hadn't thought about that in ages.

"Still tough, huh?"

Jo nodded, but not for the reason that Lisa thought.

"Lucky you." Lisa cast a glance over at Nick. "At least you have Hank to keep you from falling back into the habit. I tried quitting when I started working with the bank. With the stress of it and my and Nick's then-recent marriage, I couldn't break the habit. I finally kicked it when I…."

" _At least you have Hank…."_

A chill ran down Jo's spine and drowning out the other woman's words. How could Lisa read her mind? Did she…?

Jo shoved the gum back between her teeth with her tongue, chomped on it, and willed herself to remain calm. As far as Lisa knew, she had been married to Henry….

Jo's heart started to race. She took another bite of the small wad. She had fantasized about a life with Henry on and off for the past one and a half months, but she had always managed to bring herself back to Earth to focus on her work. But now…. If she didn't watch it, she could let her imagination run away with her. She couldn't afford to let that happen, not with their lives on the line.

The spearmint flavor filled her mouth and covered her thoughts. Feeling much better than she had earlier, she listened as Nick and Lisa continued to tell her and Henry about their lives in The Viele. From what she could determine, they had been there since the former hotel had been converted into apartments back in 2003.

Nick took a deep breath. "It's a shame that someone died in our building."

Lisa glowered at her husband. "Nick…."

He shot a look back at her. "I want to tell them."

Henry and Jo exchanged looks of their own as her curiosity overtook her. She blinked as adrenaline surged through her body. She couldn't believe her ears. Had she picked their victim's residence unintentionally?

They stopped to let a customer from the nearby dry cleaners pass. Nick avoided meeting their eyes.

"What happened?" The words slipped out of her mouth before she knew it.

Nick hesitated before slowly facing her and Henry. "We don't know what happened exactly, but….."

He glanced at his wife and sighed. "In 2009, I returned home from work when I overheard one of our neighbors talking about seeing a man enter one of the apartments but never leaving it."

Jo exchanged another questioning look with Henry. His story was becoming too familiar for her personal comfort.

She readjusted her grip on the handles as her fingers loosened around them. She couldn't embarrassed herself by dropping them.

Lisa leaned over. "All we know that is that the man had a badge on his waist. Just like a cop would."

A vague impression stirred in Jo's mind. She brushed it aside. She had been stressed out by the move, and she was imagining things. Whatever it was, it was nothing to be concerned about anyway.

Jo tilted her head. "Do you know who saw them?"

The Viele emerged into view. Henry fell back to let Jo go through the rotating door.

Feeling Lisa's gaze burning through her, Jo scoffed. "What? I watch _Law and Order_. They ask that all the time."

Out of the corner of her eye, Henry started to open his mouth. She shot him a look that, she hoped, told him that she would fill him in later…if he didn't figure it out first.

Lisa nodded. "Ryan Fugate. He lives down the hall in apartment 812."

Jo's mind raced. She bit her lower lip and reminded herself of the need to maintain her cover. The growing number of questions that she wanted to ask were off limits. Unless Mike and Lt. Reece could find some solid evidence, she would need to keep them to herself….possibly forever.

They boarded the elevator. After Nick and Lisa exchanged pleasantries with them and got off on their floor, Henry and Jo exchanged knowing looks. Once they returned to their apartment, they needed to talk about this. Henry didn't have to say anything, but she knew that he had already moved their new neighbors to the top of his suspect list as well.

* * *

As the pair set the bags on the island, Jo sighed. "Is it me, or does Lisa seem suspicious of us?"

Henry reached into one, pulled out a couple of items, and carried them to the refrigerator. "She most certainly does. Her desire to keep Nick from talking about the murder does raise a number of questions in my mind." Feeling his paranoia rising, he drew in a deep breath to keep It at bay. "It could be just our imaginations too. They seem kind enough." He tilted his head. "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves to Ryan today or later tomorrow."

She stared at him. "And tip him off if he's our stalker?"

Henry racked his mind for the faintest memory of Nick or mention of a Ryan over his employment with the OCME and his work with Jo. To his bewilderment, none appeared.

He shook his head. "I doubt that either Nick or Ryan is our stalker. I don't recognize Nick, and the name 'Ryan Fulgate' doesn't ring a bell."

"Good to hear." She returned to the island and laid her hands on the table. "They don't to me either." She bit her lower lip. "You don't suppose that Dexter is the cop Ryan saw?"

"We won't know until we talk to him tomorrow. But, I suspect that he might be."

Jo popped another piece of gum in her mouth and started to chew it. He smiled. He was glad that he had seen it on the shelves. Jo's distress after they had left the freezer department had prompted him to search for a way to alleviate it. Fortunately, she had seen it as a request for forgiveness for his curt demeanor.

He reached into one tote and pulled out the cursed frozen meals. He wrinkled his nose at them. He did not want to try one now. He didn't want another disagreement to break out so soon after the last one.

He shelved the meals, pulled out his pocket watch, and checked the time. He grinned. Several of the restaurants should be opened by now.

She brushed by him, and he froze. He closed his eyes. She had no idea what she was doing to him. All he wanted to do was to get as close to her as possible.

Just as the temptation to wrap his arm around her waist and spin her around to face him called to him, his stomach growled. He shook himself out of his haze and turned to her. "How would you like to go out to lunch at a restaurant? It'll take too long for me to cook something for us."

"And prolong your avoidance of frozen meals?"

His heart sank. He swallowed. He would never forgive himself for destroying their relationship on something as petty as food.

She lowered her gaze and appeared to consider his request. After a few moments of silence, she bit her lower lip, nodded, and looked back up at him. "Yeah. I guess I would."

The door thudded. They jerked their heads toward it and then toward each other. An urge to protect Jo sprung up, propelling Henry around the island and to the door.

He swung it up and scanned the hallways. They, however, were empty.

He eased the door shut and strolled back to Jo. His gaze met her worried brown eyes peering around the kitchen's threshold.

She stepped up to him. "Who was it?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I didn't see anyone."

"Could it be…?"

He huffed. "I don't think so."

Swallowing back his fear, he glanced over his shoulder at the door. A possible death and their stalker under the same roof? Their new neighborhood, like their apartment complex, was not as it appeared. What secrets were hidden in its streets?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Jo's fingers on Henry's scar really aren't bringing the feeling back to it.

Henry cooking is a bit of a head canon of mine, originating from him waiting up for Abe in "The Ecstasy of Agony". I figure he's learned how at some point in his life, especially during a period where he had neither cooks nor restaurants to provide him with some food.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Henry set his hands on his hips and stared into the filled open drawer. He preferred that the clothes remained packed in the suitcases for the time being. He did not anticipate them staying here for long. Once they returned to Summit Rock, the location should jog their memories about that day, and they should return home in time for their first date this weekend.

He sighed and shoved the drawer shut. Experience, however, had taught him that it wasn't that simple. Even if they could remember their involvement in that investigation, it wouldn't improve their situation. They might produce one or more leads that could solve Dexter's murder, but they would be no closer to finding their stalker than where they were now. If their stalker had been there that day, he had blended into the crowd that had gathered at the scene, and neither he nor Jo could now pick him out of a police lineup. Given how long it had taken Adam to reveal his true identity to him and then to Jo, they could be here for months or….

To distract himself from that possibility, Henry turned to the satchel leaning against the drawers. He withdrew his copy of Alexander Pope's _Essay on Man_ , pickedup the bag containing his small library, and gently nestled it on a shelf under his pants in the walk-in closet. He smiled at the tome and fingered the spine. He had attempted to read it again whenever his son had gone out on a date, but, every time that he had set out to do so, he had drifted off to sleep. Perhaps he could read it now since he had plenty of time.

Henry tucked the book under his arm and sauntered to the bed. He propped his pillow against the headboard, sat down, and wiggled back until he reclined comfortably against it. He slipped the tome into his hands and breathed in the slight vanilla smell of the pages. With the month that had passed, it had felt like millennia since he had last been able to engage in one of life's simple pleasures.

His shoulders drooping, he opened the book up to where he had left off. A few paragraphs in, the words blurred together into a tangled mess. He blinked several times to ward off any sleep attempting to creep in and claim him again. He wanted to finish the book again some time during his long life, and now would be the perfect time to do it.

His mind drifted off into his and Jo's last two meals: lunch at the nearby Italian restaurant and a pair of sandwiches from the local deli. During both, their conversations had been relatively pleasant. Yet, he had sensed a slight strain between them. They had agreed that their circumstances were the source of their tension and that some time apart would do them some good. He, however, still felt that, to some extent, it was his fault.

Henry huffed. He had held off adapting to a modern lifestyle for as long as he could. After his first exposure to the inventions that he currently used, he couldn't imagine returning to a life without them. In contrast, everything that Jo had been accustomed to since childhood had been things that he had adamantly resisted. Today, it had become glaringly apparent that he needed to reconsider his position on the remainder of modernity to maintain his cover and his relationship with the woman he loved.

He reached over the edge of the bed and picked up the book. Inspecting the spine, he sighed. It was evident that he was not going to be able to read it any time soon. If he didn't know any better, he would swear that the tome was cursed.

He set the book beside him, pushed himself off the bed, and headed over to his window. Beneath him, the traffic flowed steady past the majestic park, almost seemingly ignoring the beauty just beyond them. One that had changed as Vaux and Olmsted's designs had fallen victim to the city's desires for expansion, but a beauty just the same.

"… _If I were you, I would take this time and get reacquainted with each other as lovers…."_

Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. Abe was right. They needed to do that. Their time in the grocery store had revealed several similarities that he had never noticed before. Perhaps he should take Abe's advice and get to know her as intimately as he could.

He surveyed his room. After their stalker was arrested, that was. They could not begin their relationship in earnest with their lives in constant peril. Should something happen to her….

His attention turned back to the gorgeous view outside of his window. He needed a change in scenery. Perhaps he should take a walk in the park and allow the warm spring evening clear his head.

He neared the door, twisted the handle, and hoped that Jo wouldn't mind if he left the apartment for a while. He needed this time to himself to see if he could jog his own memory of that day. Every time that he had died, and when he had recently regained his memory, the events of Dexter's death had always been a short burst in his mental landscape. Yet, the details had eluded him ever since Lt. Reece had asked him about their victim. If he could swing over to the outcrop and take a few minutes to recall what else he had seen or heard while conducting an external examination of Dexter's body, he probably could remember something that could break their stalker's hold on their lives.

"It's the top of the fourth here at Yankee Stadium. The Yankees lead the Red Sox 4-2…."

The announcer's voice jerked Henry's mind and body. Blinking to regain his bearings, he cracked the door open and dared to peek out into the living room. The images of the latest baseball game appeared on the TV screen. His eyes wandered across the room. He drew in a deep breath as Jo sat on the sofa, her feet curled up beside her.

She turned to him, and their eyes met. She held out the remote control, turned the TV off, and hid the device out of sight. Her enticing smile asked him to join her on the sofa. He bit back his own smile. As tempting as it was, he must remain focused on his mission.

Her eyebrows turned up. "How are you doing?"

"A little better than I had been earlier."

He pointed his head to the TV and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Couldn't resist the Yankees' game?" She had mentioned her preference years ago shortly after she had asked him which baseball team he supported. He had blurted out that he was more of a cricket man then, but her eyes widened when he had later told her that he had quietly supported the Yankees in the past because of Abe's love for them.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, brushed back a strand of hair, and gave him a small smile. "Not really. I came across it while trying to find something to watch. Might as well support the team."

He nodded. He had occasionally found himself wishing that he could do the same both during the short time that he had lived in Chicago in the 1890s and when Abe was a child. Yet, the game of baseball was so far removed from the form of cricket that he had played in his childhood that he had found himself unable to get into it.

She scooted over to one side of the sofa. "You care to sit down?"

His mouth widened. Although it was likely a ten-minute walk to the outcrop by using the footpaths, he wanted to leave plenty of time to arrive there, walk himself through his and Dr. Ross' movements, and return before night fully fell. Barring another death due to a distracted driver, if he left now, he could be back before bed.

"I, um, I—." His heart picked up its pace and blocked his thoughts from his mouth.

A weight grew in his chest and pulled down on his body. He couldn't leave her now. She had come into the living room seeking refuge from her own thoughts and concerns, and she had chosen to occupy her mind with the images and sounds from the TV. If he were to continue to Summit Rock without her, he could cause her own pain to dig deeper into her soul and wound her for the remainder of her life.

He dared to look into her eyes. At her smile, his worries faded into the distance. The almost black specks that bejeweled her soft, brown eyes begged him to inspect them more.

A shiver unwound his muscles, forcing him to look away. The sofa's cushion called out to him. Not wanting to fall down in front of her, he slid over to the space that she had provided and lowered himself down beside her.

Reality broke through his haze. As his vision cleared, he glanced around the room. Although he was enjoying his time with Jo, a part of him longed to think that this wasn't happening. That piece wanted to be elbow-deep in the latest body, looking for clues into the victim's untimely death. To bounce theories off Lucas and to reenact them at the latest scene or in the morgue. To see Jo and Mike walk into the OCME and ask him for his opinion on a statement or a piece of evidence. To head home to Abe and to talk about his day.

"Henry?"

He shook himself out of his thoughts, scoffed, and pivoted toward her. Her bright smile and steadfast gaze, the same expression that had invited him to share whatever had been on his mind during their first year of working together, adorned her face.

"This day still feels surreal in a sense." The words tumbled out before he knew it. He shook his head. "I sometimes expect to wake up in bed in a cold sweat and to realize that today is only a nightmare."

Her smile and the gleam in her eyes faded. She bit her lower lip and bowed her head. "Tell me about it. I keep waiting for Mike or Lt. Reece to call and to let us know that they have found our stalker."

She took another look at him and scoffed. "You know, for a while, I was really enjoying our day. If it weren't for Nick and Lisa, I would have let myself take this as a vacation."

He bowed his head. "I had too."

Henry found her hand, wove his fingers between hers, and gave her a small smile. He wasn't going to let their neighbors or their stalker take this moment with Jo from him. He had waited an entire month for their schedules to coincide. No matter what circumstances had brought them together, he was, to some extent, truly glad that they could finally have even an afternoon to themselves.

Her eyes traced his face, igniting his curiosity and flaming a warmth in his chest. When they had completed their circuit, she released his hand and pushed away from him. Hoping that he didn't upset her any more than what he already had, he refrained from asking her what was wrong.

She turned back to him and grinned. "I'll be right back."

He stared after her as she proceeded to the kitchen and disappeared through the threshold. She appeared too happy for someone who had been offended by a statement or reminded of something painful. Her mysterious air….

He furrowed his eyebrows. She rarely acted as though she was concealing a secret. The only times that she had—.

Jo appeared in the threshold a moment later, her hands behind her back. Her grin had grown in the time that she was gone.

"I figured that you would like these."

As she lowered herself onto the cushion next to him, she dropped her shoulders. A moment later, a package of blueberry scones appeared in her hands.

His jaw dropped, and his eyebrows knitted together as she handed him the plastic container. He gingerly accepted it. He had unloaded her bags when they had returned to the apartment. How did these escape his notice?

Tears welled up in his eyes as he peered at the scones. How was it possible for her to know that he longed for some comfort?

She briefly dropped her eyes. "I know that they're not as good as Abe's, but…"

"I—, um, I—." Henry drew in a deep breath, remembered his words, and met her gaze. "Thank you."

He opened up the package, removed one, and took a bite. As he chewed, he let the crumbs and the sweet morsels of blueberry erase his train of thought. Jo was right; it wasn't anything like Abe's. Yet, it was serving a purpose that the bakers could never imagine.

"So," Jo shifted around until she faced him and propped her head on her hand. "Carrying me over the threshold? Have you ever done that before?"

He almost spat out his mouthful. Swallowing, he regained his composure. "No, not even with Nora."

Jo tilted her head, and he bowed his head at the memory. "I wanted to, though, as a way of doing something romantic for her after we had returned from our honeymoon. She, however, insisted that she walked through the door of our new home." Jo's raised eyebrows enticed him to go further. "Nora might have been religious, but she wasn't superstitious. When I had suggested it, she had promptly inquired why I, a man of science, believed in a 'ridiculous superstition'."

He threw up his finger. "Her words, not mine. Anyway, after she had me committed to Charing Cross, I had begun to wonder if her unwillingness to accept the gesture was the first sign of trouble in our marriage."

"And Abigail?"

He quickly finished his scone, shook his head, and grinned. "She was holding Abe when we had first stepped foot in our apartments in both London and Brooklyn. And we had already considered ourselves to be married by the time that I had proposed to her."

Jo leaned forward, her eyes never leaving him. "I'm the first woman you've carried over the threshold?" Her smile tempted him to ask her to return to the door so he could do it again. "The way that you held me, I swore that it wasn't your first time."

He set the scones on the end table next to him and mirrored her posture. "Have you forgotten that I had been a doctor and an Army medic before my current profession?"

She laughed, and it rang out like church bells into the living room. "Considering I don't remember how you got me onto your sofa the times when I got drunk…?"

Her voice and her gaze trailed off. Henry's migrated to the lamp behind her. He hated that she had drowned her grief in alcohol and men. He wished that she could have spoken to her mother about it and that Mrs. Martinez had provided Jo with the same support Abe had when he had used alcohol in an attempt to forget about Abigail's absence in his life. If Jo had sought out her mother, perhaps her grief wouldn't have deepened like it had.

Henry felt her eyes on him. "What else do you like to do?"

"Huh?" His unfocused eyes to process what she wanted. "What do you mean?"

She laid her head back on her head. "What type of activities do you enjoy? Other than reading, chess, and listening to classical music or jazz, that is."

"Now or—?"

"Anytime. Even back when you were a kid."

He rolled his tongue in his mouth. He was sure that she hadn't heard him mention anything from that time….

His breath hitched in his throat. Actually, they had never shared many of their other interests before. Their conversations had predominately consisted of their cases, Abe, or whatever had occurred in their personal lives. When he had told her about a few of his interests—or she hers—they had always been in the context of a case or one of their stories from their pasts.

He peered down at his lap to rein in his emotions. Once he calmed, he found her eyes again. "Although the game had more of a written nature, my family and I enjoyed 'Consequences'."

"'Consequences'?" Her eyes widened. "As in 'Truth or Consequences'?"

He shook his head and met her gaze. "My friends, my mother, and my younger sisters were exceptionally good at creating the stories. I envied their ability." He chuckled. "Abe would disagree with me if he heard that."

"How do you play?"

"Usually, we jotted down adjectives of men and women, their names, articles of clothing—." With each detail, he could feel the past calling out to him.

Jo's eyes widened, and they glazed over. "That sounds like _Mad Libs_."

"What?" Henry narrowed his eyebrows. He had first heard of that game when Abe had mentioned that he, Fawn, and Lyle Ames had played it as children. Why was Jo drawing the connection between it and the game from his youth?

She fished out her smartphone and quickly found a site. "My sister and I played it all the time when we were growing up. We saved up our allowances for the latest book and bought it when the book fair came to our school."

He narrowed his eyes. They had book fairs for children? He would ask her, but for now, her own memory enticed him to follow her where it went.

She grinned and flashed her phone at him. "What we came up with made us laugh so hard that Mom came to our room and asked us what was going on."

Henry scooted over until his body abutted hers. He stared at the screen, his widening eyes transfixed by the words and blanks. He drew in a deep breath at the familiar sight. How was that possible?

"It's not quite the same game that I had played when I was a child, but this is remarkably the spirit of it."

"We could play now." She quickly tapped on the screen and smiled. "I would love to hear your choices when it's my turn to write them down."

Her eyes darted down to the phone. She gave it a wistful look before her gaze traveled back to him. She frowned and heaved a sigh. "Right. Our stalker could use this—" she waved her cell phone in the air "—to find us."

Her frown as she pocketed her cell phone stabbed him in the heart. Adam had caused less destruction than this. At least he afforded her the slightest bit of privacy in her domestic life…so far.

Henry's jaw clenched. Unless it was Adam who had forced them into this situation. If so—.

His mind traveled back to their walk to the grocery store. On one of the lampposts, they had spotted an advertisement for a local bookstore, and Jo had teased him about finding it. Yet….

He grinned at her. "We can use the purchase of a few books as an excuse to check out that bookstore we had learned about earlier today."

She returned his smile with one of hers which always made him feel slightly weak and slapped him on the chest. "You would."

She nodded, and her smile grew. "We could. It'll give us a chance to check out the rest of the neighborhood."

"How about some time tomorrow? We have nothing else to do."

Jo's smile faded. "How about Summit Rock?"

Henry swallowed. He had almost forgotten about that.

He studied the space between his feet. He didn't want to give up his time with her just yet. "We could go there early tomorrow morning and find the bookstore in the afternoon." He dared to gaze at her. "Provided that we don't remember something first."

A flash of blue and steel attracted his eyes. He furrowed his forehead. He didn't recall her ever having slight dimples in her fingers, let alone mentioning any projects in the domestic arts.

"When did you begin to knit?"

She blinked and stared at him. "Huh?"

He nodded to the ball of yarn. "Your knitting needles and ball of yarn. I've never seen them before."

She glanced back at it and smiled. "Oh, that? Yeah." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I picked it up when I was an uni to calm my nerves, but…." She scoffed. "…needless to say, I haven't done it much. I thought that I could try again since we have time."

The left side of his mouth quirked up. Somehow, it was comforting to know that he wasn't the only one who had felt that they had needed to maintain some sense of their routine lives.

"… _If I were you, I would take this time and get reacquainted with each other as lovers…."_

He pushed himself back on the sofa, draped an arm around her shoulders, and nodded his approval to continue elaborating on her hobby. As she revealed the source of her fascination with the ancient craft, he let her words wash over him and sweep him under her influence. He smiled as he noted each thing. Perhaps he could have enough time to start unraveling the mysteries of Jo Martinez.

* * *

It had never been easy to talk to widows…especially to those who had lost their husbands under mysterious circumstances.

Mike drew in some air and steeled himself for what would happen once they were inside. He had handled situations like this only a few times before, and, each time, it was different. Some women had shut down. Others had talked about everything but their husbands and their deaths. One widow had assaulted him. And Jo…. Although Sean's death was more straightforward, Jo had plunged herself into her work, drunk herself into a near stupor, or ran out of the room whenever she had thought about his death.

He shot Lieu one nervous glance, swallowed back his fear, and rapped on the door. "Megan Chapman?"

An eerie silence greeted him. He stared at the door. The DMV had claimed that she lived here in Brighton Beach, and he had seen the lights on in her window. Had she seen their car pull up and was refusing to answer the door?

The door swung open, revealing a tall woman with a pair of manicured hands. Her eyes took in the two strangers. Megan's eyes drifted to Mike's shield. She stepped back and shoved the door toward them.

"I'm done talking to cops."

Mike stuck his foot in the door. "Mrs. Chapman—."

He wrinkled his nose as the door crunched his toes. As soon as he got back to the precinct, he was going to find some ice in the break room's freezer and make himself an ice pack.

"It's Miss Burris, and I ask you to leave before I call your superior and report you for harassment."

Lieu stepped behind him. "His superior is here. May we come in?"

Megan pinched her nose and closed her eyes. After a moment, she nodded her approval.

She watched them as they entered the modest apartment. "I don't see why you are here. I haven't done anything wrong."

Mike's eyes drifted to the urn sitting on a table near the fireplace. In a split second, he saw Sean's casket sitting on the biers at the altar of the church where the funeral had been held. The pallbearers stepped aside to allow a dazed Jo see Sean one final time. He leaned forward and nudged her. She slowly twisted around and stared at him as blankly as some of their corpses. Karen poked him with her elbow as her way of telling him that it was okay if he left her side. He eased around his wife and made his way to the front pew. He apologized to his partner's mother and squatted down in front of Jo. After convincing her to go to the casket, he escorted her to her husband one last time. Jo's knees buckled under her. He held her hand and had wrapped his arm around her while he had escorted her back to her seat.

He swallowed and gathered his courage. "We're here to ask you a few questions about Dexter's death."

Megan headed to a chair across the room and sank into it. She hunched over her knees. Her hand reached under her ponytail and stroked her nape.

After several long, silent moments, she finally straightened herself and eyed the investigators warily. Her puffy eyes darted from one investigator to the other. "What about Dex?"

Mike and Lieu lowered themselves into the sofa across from her. He smoothed his tie. "Someone is targeting a couple of people who were at the scene of his death, and we suspect that it is connected to it."

Her hand dropping into her lap, Megan huffed. "Like I told the medical examiner at the time, there was nothing wrong with Dexter. He was a perfectly healthy man."

Mike and Lt. Reece exchanged looks at the conspicuous absence. Lt. Reece separated her hands and inched forward. "Let us get this straight. You haven't spoken to a detective about your husband's death?"

Megan slumped in her chair and looked away. "The only times that I saw the police were when an uni had informed me of Dex's death and at his funeral."

Mike swallowed and studied the beige rug covering the hardwood floor. It wasn't like Jo to abandon an investigation in its early stages. Even when Detective Hugh Dunn had killed Sean's informant Aaron Brown, she had remained on the case until it was solved. Why hadn't she done so this time?

Dr. Ross' statement ran through Mike's mind. He eyed Megan and tightened his lips. "Dr. Ross had told us that you had mentioned Dexter had become withdrawn the day before his death. Is that true?"

Megan leaned back into her seat, gripped the chair's arms, and fingered the wedding band on her finger like Jo used to do. She finally found his eyes. "It's true," she whispered.

She sighed and sat higher in the chair. "I tried. I really tried. If I could have—. Maybe—. Maybe—." She ran her hand over her hair again.

"Tried what?" Mike swallowed.

She stared past him. "To get him to talk about what was going on in his mind." She laid her hands over her face. "He, um, he…"

Mike nodded. He had lost count of the number of times that he had refused to talk to Karen about his day. It wasn't because he didn't want to; it was because he knew that she wouldn't understand what he was going through. Either that, or he didn't want to burden her with the grisly sights that he had seen or the insane suspects that he and Jo—and lately, Doc too—had faced.

Megan's lips quivered. She sucked in some air. "I've always suspected that something at work was bothering him, but I'm still not sure." She huffed. "I wish I knew what it was. Maybe I…."

Lieu tracked Megan's eyes and offered her a small smile. "His reluctance to talk to you is not your fault. Sometimes, it's difficult to talk about our work to others. All you could have done was to be there for him."

Sensing Megan wasn't going to give them any more answers, Mike stood up and smoothed his tie. "Mrs.— Miss Burris, we didn't want to make you relive your husband's death, but we will catch Dexter's murderer." He hoped so. He extended a hand. "I am sorry for your loss."

Taking his hand, Megan bowed her head in an attempt to hide her face. Once they finished, he and Lieu eased out of the room. He took one look back at the grieving widow. He didn't know why, but, for a moment, her posture reminded him of Jo.

He swallowed as he closed the door behind them. Jo. He wanted to solve this case for her and Doc too.

* * *

"She's trying to bury that part of her past."

Mike glanced over at Lt. Reece as they walked the four blocks to the garage. He looked around to see if anyone was listening to them. Once satisfied, he bit the right half of his lower lip in thought. "Sounds like it."

The urn appeared before him like a ghost. Mike pushed his hands deeper in his pockets as one thought reared up in him.

He sucked in some air and gathered his courage. "What if she killed Dexter?"

Lieu's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

He turned his attention to the traffic at the intersection to keep himself calm. "Jo's like my sister, and we tell each other everything. Well, almost everything." For about two years, she had said nothing about Doc's condition, and he was steamed when he had discovered it through one of Doc's deaths. "Maybe things got heated during their last morning together, and she killed him in a rage."

He glanced over at Lieu as they crossed the street. She nodded as she contemplated his words. She sucked in some air herself. "If so, how did she know that Henry and Jo are still with the NYPD and OCME?"

"Good point. If Megan is anything like Jo, she's cutting herself off from everyone she knew at the NYPD. Even if she hadn't, all she has to go on were rumors."

"… _Or she was working off the record…."_

Mike's heart raced. "We need to look at Dexter's latest cases. If Jo was working off the record, she could have stumbled onto what he was investigating."

He swallowed. That still didn't explain why she never showed up at Megan's home or at the OCME. Nor didn't it explain….

Lieu looked at him. "I hope that Kyle Ferguson is working in records tomorrow." She huffed. "I don't want to deal with his psychopathic colleague."

Mike snarled, but not at his superior. He would like to know how Adam had conned his way into a job with the NYPD. Whoever had helped him deserved to be fired.

The garage grew closer, and Mike maneuvered his way through the crowd. His mind mulled over the possible explanations for Dexter's death. So far, none of them stood out.

As they crossed the last street, he glanced toward the Upper West Side. He hoped that Henry and Jo would remember something about the case. If so, their insight could give him and Lieu a much better idea of what direction to take it.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I'm naturally taking some liberties with Henry and Jo's lives. Nora's religious beliefs are something that I had started in "Remember You Must Die and Live".

The information about "Consequences" is from Wikipedia. Jo's words are my own when I read it…seconds before I saw _Mad Libs_ mentioned in the article. The information on baseball and cricket history from Wikipedia and ESPN's "Cricket in the 17th and 18th centuries". I looked up the Yankees' and Mets' schedules online when writing this scene and changed the score to match the one in real-life. (Originally, it was supposed to be the Mets, but I changed it to the Yankees.) By the way, the Yankees won 9-6 that night.

I am taking a one-month hiatus from this story. I am participating in NaNoWriMo again this year. (This story was last year's project!) I am starting an original story…with two main characters who are _Forever_ fans. It had been in my mind since chapter 27 of "Remember You Must Die and Live". (Yeah, that long!) In the meantime, I have two one-shots that are ready to go, and I will be posting them next month. (I have a third one, but it's not ready yet.) I hope that you will enjoy them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note** : Hi, everyone! Well, NaNoWriMo did not go as well as I had expected, but I was surprised at the number of words that I had written during the month. I got most of an outline for my original story completed. And Henry and Jo convinced me to start an outline for a holiday-themed story featuring them and a plot summary for a one-shot—or a short multi-chapter story—about a teenaged Henry getting himself into trouble. (The holiday one will debut next year. It's novel-length. I can feel it.) At the same time, I am glad that everyone is enjoying the one-shots that I had posted.

Well, like I had said, I planned to start updating this story as soon as NaNoWriMo was over. I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 _How could it be one in the morning already?_

Jo deposited her phone onto her end table, bunched her pillow under her, and closed her eyes. It had been a long day, and all she wanted to do was to get some sleep.

She tossed and turned to get comfortable. Unable to do so, she sat up in bed and scrubbed her face. She wished that she hadn't brought up going to Summit Rock tomorrow. Ever since she had mentioned the cursed place, she had been searching her memory, looking for something—anything—that pointed to their stalker and to their suspect in Dexter's murder. So far, nothing seemed to exist. It was almost as if fate had somehow erased most of the events of that case from her memory.

She huffed, folded her hands in front of her, and stared at her phone. She had had sleepless nights before, and she had fallen asleep even later than this. With this time in the morning, she could be at least semi-rested when they started their day.

She shoved herself out of bed. Maybe she should go into the living room and watch some TV. Watching an old movie should put her out.

The moment she opened the door, a bright light flooded the room. She squinted in an attempt to survey the living room. Who had turned on the lights? She hadn't heard any strange noises earlier, but she also didn't hear Henry's voice or footsteps. Hopefully, someone didn't break into the apartment, kill him, and was now robbing it.

She waited until her eyes adjusted to the lights before she made a move. As she rounded the end table, a door in the kitchen slammed shut. She stiffened her posture and braced herself for what she would find.

She stole toward the kitchen's entrance and peered around the corner. His back turned to her, a man reached over the stove and opened the cabinet where Henry had stashed the spices from their grocery shopping.

She glanced up at the cabinets. She had placed Abe's large sauté pan in the one over the sink. If she could sneak over there and take it, she could use it to hit the intruder over the head and knock him unconscious. That should give her enough time to check on her boyfriend and call for backup if necessary.

She eased into the kitchen and bumped into the man. Before she could curse herself, an electric tingle ran from her chest to every part of her body. Wondering who could have made her feel that way, she dared to look the intruder in the face.

She nearly jumped when she came face-to-face with Henry.

Her cheeks warmed at the sight of him in a white t-shirt and his blue boxer-briefs. "I didn't see you there."

"My apologies." His British accent and dulcet voice flowed over her like a warm shower. He closed the refrigerator door and gazed into her eyes. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She ran her fingers through her hair. "What are you doing up?"

"Making some warm milk. I couldn't sleep." He headed over to the stove and set the milk next to the pan on the stove. "Do you want some?"

She followed him to the island and leaned over it. Warm milk sounded better than watching TV.

Before she could give him a response, her earlier thoughts flooded back. She bit her lower lip and averted her attention to keep herself from crying. She was here with Henry, and that was all that should matter.

He pulled two mugs out of the cabinet and gently put them on the island. "What's wrong?"

She stared at him. In the daytime, he could call the time of death on her mascara and determine its cause based on the amount that she still had on. There was no way that she could keep this from him.

He put his hands on the granite surface and tilted his head toward her. "Jo? Are you all right?"

"I, um, I've been trying to…" Air left her, forcing her to gulp in search of some. "I, um, can't remember—."

Her throat closed, and tears flowed to the surface. In a desperate attempt to stop them, she tried to find the words to describe what she was feeling. Yet, none came. Instead, a tremor rose in her chest. As she stood there, it migrated to her legs as the vibration grew stronger. She grabbed the island and tightened her grip to keep herself from falling.

Before she knew it, Henry slid to her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her hands slipped away from their anchor with his swift motion. Her legs still shaking, she groped until she found his chest. Satisfied, she slipped her arms around him, buried her face in the crook of his neck, and started sobbing.

He held her and rubbed her back until her tears ran dry. She finally looked up and gazed into eyes that sometimes appeared all-knowing. He didn't have to say anything, but his strength built itself around her as if it could protect her from every painful thing in her life.

A strand of hair fell across her face. One of Henry's hands let go of her, filling her with a lonely ache. As his hand neared her face, she held her breath. He ran his hand to the errant lock and brushed it back behind her ear. Instead of leaving, his fingers lingered on her lobe. She closed her eyes and let his touch melt away the remainder of her worries.

Soon, his hand joined the other which had dropped to her waist. Feeling a little lighter, she offered him a small smile. She didn't know how, but he always seemed to know how to make her feel better.

The memory of finding Abigail's remains and car flashed before her eyes. She turned her attention to his shoulder. His late wife had the same feelings that Jo had, and Abigail's departure out of Henry's life had hurt him deeply. What if she inadvertently brought that memory back? What if he recognized the parallels between the two relationships and wanted to end theirs now?

"Are you all right?"

Jo's gaze traveled to his face. "I was just thinking. That's all."

Henry released her and headed to the cabinets to the left of the stove. He pulled out the vanilla extract and the turmeric powder, brought them back to the stove, and set the vanilla extract down. He held out the turmeric powder and softly chuckled. "I have been meaning to ask you, but how much turmeric powder do you put in your warm milk?"

She cocked her head. "About a teaspoon. Why do you ask?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Ever since that cup of warm milk which you had made for me, I've been craving it every time that I've been unable to sleep."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected that her recipe would become his favorite.

As he dutifully measured out the correct amount of ingredients, she bit her lower lip. As far as she knew, it wasn't like him to be up in the middle of the night unless he was conducting an autopsy, working a case, had a nightmare, or was worrying about Abe.

"Why are you up?"

He turned to her and bowed his head. "I've been thinking about our current circumstances."

She froze. "Are you reconsidering our relationship?"

Their argument earlier in the day had made her wonder if they were meant to be together. It was one of the few moments in which it was easy to forget that he was desperately trying to hold on to some parts of a long-forgotten past to remind himself of his true age. She hadn't meant to offend him with something as ridiculous as their food choices. Fortunately, their conversation at lunch and dinner at restaurants had seemed to convince her that she might have been momentarily tortured herself unnecessarily.

He flashed her a grin. "Absolutely not. Our relationship is perhaps one of the best decisions that I have ever made."

"Then what?"

His face fell. He wiped his face and bowed his head before taking a spoon out of the drawer and putting it back in.

"Perhaps I should confront Adam again. It would risk both our covers and the upper-hand that we have recently gained…." His Adam's apple bobbing, he pivoted back to the stove and turned it on. "But he is also the only suspect with a motive to harm either of us." His voice started to crack. "Especially you."

Her thumb ran along the bottom of her ring. Her mind had run back to the creepy immortal the moment that she had heard the voice in the garage and again when they had heard the bump at their door. She had silently—and literally—prayed that the man in the garage wasn't somehow connected to him.

Jo joined Henry's side, rested one hand on his free arm, and laid the other on his back. "Remember what I said when you fled to Brussels to protect me from one of his threats. I am a trained law enforcement officer, and I knew what I was getting myself into when I signed up for the academy. I am prepared for whatever happens. I will help you take him down even if it's the last thing I do."

His silence and failure to meet her eyes were eerie. She blew out some air. She hated to see him look so discouraged and uncertain about himself. Think that he could lose her the same way that he had lost Abigail. Feel like he was doomed to follow in the psychopathic immortal's footsteps as he was the first fellow immortal whom he had met.

Hoping that she wasn't inadvertently pressuring him into a decision that he would later regret, she leaned against him. If she could find some way to comfort him, he might be able to get some sleep.

"Hold off on your confrontation of Adam for the time being. It won't be worth it if he finds a way to use our situation against us and try to seduce you to the dark side of your condition again. If he is behind this, he _**will**_ let us know sooner or later."

Bowing his head, Henry set the spoon down and turned off the stove. Behind his eyes, she could see his mind turning the idea over, taking it apart, and analyzing it almost as if it were a corpse. She smiled. He didn't know how much his consideration of her words meant to her. She had once thought that she couldn't get through to him. Unbeknownst to her at the time, her words and her reaction to Adam's manipulation had prompted Henry to reconsider testing Adam's theory about the weapons used in their first deaths on him.

Jo turned Henry around to face her, and his eyes widened. She grinned. "In the meantime, I want to learn more about the man Karen calls my 'Mr. Darcy'." Inwardly groaning at the name, she hoped that it didn't spark a bad memory for him.

He gave her a sly smile. "I'm the subject of your and Karen's gossip?"

She tapped him on the chest twice with the back of her hand. "Don't flatter yourself. We talk about other things too."

The smile widened into a grin. Before he could come up with a retort, the fragrant smell of the warm milk filled her nose.

He took the pot over to the island and poured the drink into the mugs. After setting the pot in the sink, he offered her a cup. As she took a sip, her eyes rolled back and closed shut.

"What?"

She opened her eyes and met his. She scoffed, wiped her lips, and deposited the leftover liquid onto her mug's lip. "Somehow you managed to replicate my recipe perfectly."

He squinted and stared at her. "I did?"

She nodded and took another sip, making sure that she caught the drops that she missed.

It was his turn to scoff. "Must be my sophisticated palette. I must have detected the proportions of the majority of the ingredients the first time I sipped it."

"Must be." It wouldn't be the first time his tongue dissected a recipe. Abe had mentioned that both Henry and Abigail had taught him how to cook. When Abe cooked his first meal, Henry took one bite and told him precisely what was wrong with it. Abe had been hurt at first, but he had eventually realized how much food his father had tried over the centuries. Since then, Abe almost always recruited his father as his sous-chef when trying a new dish.

Jo grinned as their sips became synchronized. It was sometimes difficult to believe that she and Henry were so much alike. He was born and raised in London at the time of _Hamilton_. She was a modern-day New Yorker, born and bred. He had come from wealth and privilege. East Harlem offered no such opportunities for either. He had traveled the world while she had been out of the country three times, the first one being entering the Urkesh consulate in New York for a case. He should have remained dead for two hundred years but had miraculously survived everything that had been thrown at him. She had no idea if her next encounter with an enraged suspect would lead to her death. If they were able to tell anyone their real life stories, no one outside of their circle of friends would believe that they should have any interest in each other.

Yet, she saw how much they had in common almost since the moment that they had met, and their similarities had become even more striking once his secret had come out. Like she had told him after his self-imposed three and a half week break years ago, they were both guarded, screwed-up people. Their stories paralleled each other, with lives that started out rough, fathers who had skirted the law for personal gain, spouses who had died while spending time away from them, and paths that had led them into law enforcement and forensic medicine. They shared a sense of justice, and they hated the greed and entitlement that even bystanders in one of their cases had. For the longest time, they both had preferred to be alone or to plunge themselves into their work to bury their pain. They both valued their families and friends and their time with them.

She stifled a chuckle. They even shared a preference in residences. He could afford to live in any place in New York, even their apartment. Yet, his idea of "nice" was an apartment over an antiques shop on the Lower East Side.

"We had never expected to do this again."

She lowered her cup in time to see him lower his. "Do what?"

"Starting our lives over with someone else." He fingered the top of his mug.

"No, I don't think so." She leaned over the island and studied him for a moment. "Did Abigail want you to remarry?"

"I—." His eyes glazed over, and a smile played on his face.

He set his cup down and nursed it. "I believe that she would have." His eye locked onto Jo's. "Had she had the chance to mail her letter to me, I would have joined her in Tarrytown and would have lived there for the remainder of her days. As the end approached, she likely would have encouraged me to begin thinking of the future, and she would have tried to arrange a courtship for me. With her dying breaths, she would have made me promise to begin my life anew with another."

Jo slowly nodded. From what she had heard about Abigail and what she had seen in Abe, that could have happened exactly the way that Henry had described.

His soft smile and faraway look indicated that he was still in the past. "When is your mind?"

He blinked, shook his head, and softly chuckled. "Dancing at The Stork Club, March 18, 1955."

Jo slightly smiled at the bittersweet memory that he had once told her. Bitter because Abigail's words that the reason for his immortality was not her and their life together had proven to be prophetic. Sweet because of the insanely romantic nature of their date night.

"It has taken me sixty years to realize the wisdom of her words. At the time, I had thought nothing of them, but now…." He sighed. "Now, I am a foolish old man."

Jo took another sip of milk and slipped a hand over his. "You're human."

Henry bowed his head, smiled, and then softly chuckled again. "Thanks for the reminder."

She smiled. She had thought that she would never live long enough to see him embrace his humanity. But she had, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

"What about Sean? Did he want you to start over?"

Jo averted her attention to her milk and pulled her lips together. "We, um, we never talked about it." She reviewed every moment of their marriage and then chuckled. "He was almost always seeking my happiness, so I think he would have."

She lifted her eyes over her cup. She couldn't see herself having this moment with anyone else. Not even with Sean.

"How do we proceed?"

Henry's voice beckoned to Jo. She took one last sip of her warm milk and set her mug on the island. She bit her lower lip. The day's events had showed her that they didn't know each other as well as she had thought.

Her mind raced back to the last time that she had felt like he was a total stranger to her. That was years ago, back when….

She met his gaze. "I guess we do this like we had when you had told me that you're immortal. We take this—."

"—Day by day. We deal with each new discovery about the other as we make it."

Her eyes widened. When did they begin to finish each other's sentences?

Jo raised up onto her tiptoes and peeked into his mug. Noticing how much he had left, she motioned to him. "Let me take your mug."

Henry gave it to her, and she placed them in the sink. As she rejoined him, he stepped aside to let her pass in front of him. The moment she crossed the threshold, he rested his hand on her back and then wrapped his arm around her.

She looked over at him as they headed for the sofa. "What else do you want to do tomorrow? Aside from visiting the bookstore?" Whatever he planned was fine by her.

He bit his lower lip. "I haven't thought about it yet. If we were still on the case…"

They settled on the sofa. _Yeah, right. I almost forgot about that_.

She sighed. Hopefully, Mike, Lucas, and Lieu were in the process of discovering the identity of their stalker. At the same time, if she were to have had her way, she and Henry would have been going over the files and trying to recreate the crime with Lucas and Mike earlier today. She hated being on the sidelines, but, at the same time, she wanted to take advantage of their time together.

She glanced at the TV. She didn't want to spend the rest of the day like they had earlier. The entire time that she had been watching TV earlier, she had unexpectedly found herself wishing that Henry would join her and that they would do something together. When he finally did, she had enjoyed her time with him so much that she had hated to go to bed.

"…but, whatever we do, I want to do it with you."

Henry pulled her closer to him. Although the room was quite comfortable, a shiver washed over her. She snuggled under his arm, slipped the arm closest to him under him, and rested her other hand over his scar.

Her fingers began to trace the ancient wound under his t-shirt. A piece of her told her that what she was doing was too personal. That their relationship was too new for this. She considered removing her hand, but it rejected that notion and stayed firmly in place.

Wondering what was going through Henry's mind, Jo lifted her face toward him. He gazed down at her, a smile on his face. With each movement of her fingers, he stroked her shoulder in almost perfect timing.

The room grew much warmer, but Jo didn't care. It had been too long since they had last had a moment like this.

Jo leaned her head on him, and her thoughts blurred. For her, time was slowing down. She had nowhere to go or nothing to do. Whatever they would plan could wait until later. All that mattered now was being together.

Her eyes started to slide shut. She was so comfortable that she could go to sleep right then.

Her eyes flew open. The last time that Henry had warm milk….

His chest rose and fell steadily and evenly. His own eyelids were fluttering close. His hand now only held her.

She shifted into a sitting position and nudged him. "Henry?"

He stirred, blinked his eyes, and turned to her. "What?"

"Do you remember what happened the last time that you had my recipe?"

He tried to stifle a yawn, but it escaped. He laughed. "I do now."

He looked at the door to his bedroom and gave her a lopsided smile. "At least I don't have far to walk if I'm too relaxed."

They rose from the sofa, and she half-heartedly eased away from him. She had imagined herself being in Henry's arms seventy years from now several times before. However, she had always brushed it aside, reminding herself that things between them could always change. Now, she wanted to stay beside him, but they weren't married yet.

 _Yet?_ When had she started to see herself married to him?

She pushed the thought aside. She shouldn't be thinking like that right now, especially since she was so relaxed.

She shuffled toward the lights and flipped them off. She eased along the wall. A light flipped on, nearly blinding her. Determined to make it back to her room before she fell asleep, she blocked out the source and crept toward her room.

She grasped the doorknob, and she felt a pair of eyes on her. She turned back and smiled. Henry leaned against the threshold. The light from his room shone behind him, turning him into a guardian angel who was making sure that she made it back to her room safely.

She ran her finger through her hair. "Good night."

"Good night." He returned her smile. "I love you."

Her heart soared with those three little words. Words that she was longing to hear from his lips for the past month. "I love you too. 'Night."

She stifled a yawn as she entered her room and crawled into the bed. Henry had recreated her recipe perfectly. Maybe she should have considered making some milk instead of watching TV.

Although she didn't need it, she pulled the covers over her. How she had found a good man—twice—in her life, she would never know. And she was grateful for both of them.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** The recipe for Jo's milk with turmeric is from Asulia's "Health benefits of turmeric for sleep and inflammation". I stumbled upon it while I had searched for warm milk recipes back when I was writing chapter 22 of "Remember You Must Die and Live".

I know that it's "Where is your mind?" Yet, in my head canon, once Henry tells Jo he's immortal, they create a personal shorthand that allows Henry to talk about his past freely in public and that acknowledges his long life in private. "When is your mind?" is one of them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note** : Hi and Happy New Year! Sorry about not posting earlier, but I experienced a bout of writer's block just before the holidays. Fortunately, a comment from one of the reviews unblocked me a couple of days ago, and I finally was able to finish this chapter. (For more on that comment, see my other author's note at the end of the chapter.) I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

What if he had inadvertently added a couple of extra drops of vanilla extract in their warm milk last night? Was that the reason for his inability to wake up?

Henry yawned and ran his free hand through his unruly, curly hair as he shuffled toward the bathroom. With the exception of working the night shift, he almost always woke up when the sun's rays first appeared over the horizon...if not a couple of hours before. It occurred so frequently that Abe teased his father about having a sixth sense about it. This morning, however, he had groggily opened his eyes long enough to check the time and to have his watch tell him that he had spent two additional hours in his slumber.

He reviewed each step that he had taken last night and compared it to the taste of the milk. No, it couldn't have been that. He had carefully measured the ingredients, and the milk had tasted exactly like Jo's the first time that she had served it to him. Jo had even stated that he had replicated her recipe perfectly. Something else was not releasing its grip on him and allowing him to function properly.

He shook his head, hoping that the remaining cobwebs would fall out. He needed to set that mystery aside for the time being. First order of business: a cold shower. Perhaps it would help him in that regard.

He grinned in spite of himself. In spite of his difficulties at present, the night's sleep was pure bliss. His workload had been quite heavy on him in recent weeks. Each day had brought another round of unanticipated trips into the darker roads in his past. Most days, it left him deeply empathizing with the families affected by Dr. Washington's lapses in judgment and professionalism, something that he had begun to appreciate when he had first started working with Jo. Sometimes, though, a recently exhumed body brought back one of memory lane's horrors. Try as he might, he was unable to shoo away the memory that had accompanied his latest case. On those nights, it was almost a miracle that he had been able to snatch even the smallest amount of sleep that he could find. Glasses of warm milk had allowed him to leave those paths for short periods of time, but he had found himself longing for Jo's recipe after the first night using his.

Much like the first time, the warm drink drained all the tension that he had been feeling. So much so that he had hated to leave his spot by Jo's side when….

The rub of terry cloth on his arm pulled him out of the memory. Readjusted his towel and wash cloth, he closed in on the door. The moment that he twisted the knob, it freely turned under his grip.

His heart pounding against his chest, he yanked his hand from the handle and took two steps back. He willed himself to remember Jo's alias in case he needed her backup. At the same time, he braced himself for their belligerent intruder.

The door swung open, revealing one equally surprised Jo. She stood motionless, with one hand raised over her head and resting on the door. His eyes traveled up to the terry cloth towel concealing her luxurious long locks in its roll and then down to the one draped just under her bedewed, bare shoulders.

Her wide brown eyes on him called him away from the rest of her body and back to them. When he met them, a jolt of electricity that was reminiscent of a lightning strike hit him, tingling his skin as the energy flowed through his body.

He opened and shut his mouth several times to offer her a compliment, but nothing came out. Even if he could, his mind had nothing to offer her. It was almost as if his words and his thoughts had been erased.

Staring at him, she opened and closed her mouth several times. With each movement, the air around him grew a slight bit warmer. Deep inside, he sensed what was going on, and it called him to succumb to it.

"I, um, I…" Jo's voice filled the heated surroundings and chilled his surroundings. "I'll just—."

She released the door and eased around him. His gaze followed her graceful form as she slipped toward her bedroom door. He wanted to follow her and see what was wrong. To caress her flushed cheek in comfort. To let her know that he wasn't offended by anything that she had done. To take her into his arms and…

The click of her door shutting behind her brought him back to his senses. He blinked several times and shook his head. The last time that he had felt this way, he and Abigail had spent the entire night in London alone without Abe, and they were grateful that their neighbor had watched the babe for a few hours. The moment that they had returned from Abe's crib, they had locked eyes and…

He wiped his face. This was intense, even for new lovers. He and Jo had barely begun courting. Truth be told, the only intimate things that he longed for at the moment were to hold her for as long as she desired and for her lips to rest on his for the first time.

The thought doused him like the icy waters of the East River in winter. He opened and closed his mouth several times. It was no wonder why his feelings were strong. They had experienced almost all of the early milestones of a relationship…save for their first date and first kiss.

He glanced at the linens over his arms and sighed. Once they discover the truth about their circumstances and Dexter's death, they could get around to that. He promised himself that he would ask both Lt. Reece and Dr. Lippmann to schedule a day off for them and explain why. Hopefully, their superiors would be willing to give the time that they needed to fully establish their relationship.

He entered the bathroom, hung everything on the towel rack, and started to strip. The fragrances of coconut and frangipani filled his nostrils and called him away from his mission. As much as he wanted to surrender to it, he fought back the temptation. He wanted to keep his focus on the day's task and see if the trip to the park would spark his memory.

The fragrance grew stronger. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he would be able to do much of anything. Jo's shampoo was definitely, and delightfully, distracting.

* * *

Lt. Reece willed herself to slow her steps as she wove her way through the hallways. Henry and Jo's lives depended on her ability to remain calm.

She put her hand on the records room door. She hoped that Adam wasn't scheduled to work today. If he had, maybe he had headed for wherever he stayed while he stalked her people. She was in no mood to encounter the psychopathic geezer.

After one glance at the two officers manning the desk, she rolled her eyes and softly groaned. Although she had never personally seen him face-to-face, she had recognized Adam from the composite sketch that she and Henry had created two years ago. The man looked exactly like the personification of evil.

She would love to shoot Adam, bring him back the East River, shoot him again, fish him out of the river again, and then haul his wet, naked, psychopathic, immortal rear end to jail. Then, she would let Henry stab him with another needle of air just to be on the safe side. That should teach him not to mess with her detectives.

She smiled. On second thought, she might let Jo have the first crack at fatally shooting the psychopath. Adam had tried to ruin her and Henry's relationship since literally the moment that they had met. It would be fitting for her to be the one to administer justice for Henry.

Lt. Reece smoothed her blouse and jacket and steeled herself for his response. She wasn't here for that. Although she and Mike were able to pull up Dexter's cases in their database, policy required that they were to have the physical records as evidence. Since all of the Manhattan precincts' records were housed on the second floor of their respective buildings, she needed to come here to obtain them.

She approached the red-haired, female officer getting off the phone with what sounded like a commanding officer. The other woman spun around. "Yes?"

Lt. Reece's eyes met the woman's in an effort to keep her mind off the man working at the computer. "I'm here to pick up some case files belonging to Detective Dexter Chapman."

"Let me see where they are at."

As the young woman leaned over her computer, Lt. Reece glanced over her shoulder at the seemingly never-ending sea of metal shelves and cardboard boxes. How many of these files contained records of people hearing two gunshots and finding only one body? Or even hearing one shot and seeing no one around? Finding that their murder victim had died and vanished before her colleagues in the past had arrived at the scene? How many of these files had reports of Henry's involvement in a stabbing or an accident dating back to when he had first arrived in New York? How many times had his watch been admitted into evidence only to have someone return it to him days or even weeks later?

"I don't suppose that we have met."

The masculine voice chilled her to the core. Undaunted, she looked at the man who had disrupted their lives. His beady eyes scrutinized her, piercing her to her soul. Taking in every detail and figuring out a way to manipulate her into doing his bidding.

She twisted herself to face him. "Why would we have met?"

"So far, I have met almost every superior here. You are one of the few that I haven't seen before."

"What makes you think that I'm not a detective?" _This should be interesting._

He smirked. "The way that you carry yourself and the manner of your dress. Detectives don't dress as well as you are, and unis such as myself are named after the uniforms we wear. In addition, most detectives don't have an air of confidence about them."

Lt. Reece's blood boiled at his correct response. What she would do to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face.

She willed herself to not react and schooled her features. "You still haven't answered my question, Officer…?"

"De los Rios." He looked over his shoulder to where the other officer had gone. "My friends call me 'Rio'."

She bit back her anger at the familiar names. How he had managed to con his way into a job with the NYPD, she would like to know. Everyone who was responsible for his hiring deserved to be fired and charged with aiding and abetting a criminal.

Still, she couldn't let anyone know the man's true nature. As far as the rest of the world knew, immortality like Henry and Adam's existed only in sci-fi films or in graphic novels. If people were to discover that immortality was real, who knew what would happen to the immortals? She heaved a sigh and waited for Adam's response.

"I think that you already know the answer."

She resisted the urge to check the time. She couldn't get out of there soon enough.

An idea popped into her head. "You haven't heard anything unusual happening upstairs recently, have you?" Even if the surveillance footage of her office that she and Mike had pulled up didn't provide a clear view of any suspects, Adam should have heard something.

He straightened his posture, met her eyes, and shook his head. "I haven't heard anything lately. Just rumors of a medical examiner dating one of your detectives." He chuckled. "I try not to get involved in office gossip. It's very interesting to listen to, but it is rather distracting from my work."

 _Yeah, right. You don_ _'t get involved because you are trying to find a way to sway my detective's ME to the dark side of immortality. Even if it means taking his girlfriend's life in the process._

She studied his reaction. As much as she hated to admit it, Adam was telling the truth about what he had heard.

She resisted the urge to sigh. If only they could find some way to subdue the psychopathic immortal. Maybe then, she could get some rest.

She mulled her options. Making Henry an online travel agent had made her wonder where she would like to go on her next vacation. Maybe she could ask him for his opinion if and when he and Jo returned home. After everything that had happened over the past six months, she felt like she needed one.

"Ma'am?"

She turned back to the desk. The young lady's face was hidden behind two boxes that were almost as big as she was. She set them on the desk. "You might need another officer to help you carry them to your office."

Lt. Reece braced herself. She didn't want to spend any more time with Adam than she had to.

The young lady spun around so fast that it almost sent Lt. Reece's head spinning. "Kyle!"

Her ears ringing from the unexpected shout, she inwardly sighed with relief. She knew Kyle Ferguson. He was a good man.

Kyle appeared in the gap between the shelves. "What, Tanya?"

"Could you help her with these boxes? There are several more in the back that I need to get." She nudged Adam. "Come on and help me with the rest."

Lt. Reece's eyes widened as she watched Adam dutifully leave with Tanya. The immortal was insolent enough to drive a cab like a drunk driver through Mid-town during a rush hour. She had never imagined that he would obey orders.

Kyle snapped the boxes off the counter. "How are you doing, Lt. Reece? Long time, no see."

She smiled as she filled out the paperwork that Tanya had left for her. "Pretty well." She nodded toward the shelves. "What's the deal with de los Rios?"

He shuddered. "The guy's a hard worker; that's for sure. But…" He lowered his head.

"But what?"

He sighed and peered warily over his shoulder before turning back to her. "I don't know what it is about him, but he gives me the creeps. It's almost as if he's watching every move I make and listening to every word I say."

She nodded. "Me too."

Kyle looked around the room. When his attention returned to her, he crossed his arms on the desk and leaned over them. "Do you know where Dr. Morgan and Detective Martinez are? I haven't seen them in the building today."

Lt. Reece's heart stopped. _Don_ _'t tell me that Kyle is behind this. Please, no. Not him. He's too good of a cop to be caught up in this._

She gathered her courage. "Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to know if they are taking a romantic vacation." He grinned. "Truth be told, I had always expected the two of them to get together. They seem to be a perfect match. From what I've heard when I was at McSorley's earlier this week, Dr. Washington almost ruined their relationship by forcing Dr. Morgan to work too much lately."

He chuckled. "You won't believe how much money that I had made last month because of them."

Lt. Reece suppressed her laugh...and her relief. "I can believe it." She had made enough money from her own bets to cover both the bottle of MacCallan 25 that was on the shelf back home and the costs of her upcoming vacation.

Her heart sank. She didn't admit it to anyone, but she had wanted to watch their relationship mature and to experience the joys and sorrows of their life together. If they couldn't unlock the secret….

Tanya appeared in the gap. "There are four more boxes in the back. Kyle and I will bring them up to you."

Her worries stirring, Lt. Reece took the boxes and smiled as best as she could. To her surprise, her chest warmed at the image of the two officers arriving in her office.

"Thank you." The officer did not know how much she appreciated her help.

As Lt. Reece followed Kyle toward the door, she looked at the boxes in her arms. Which one held the key to this mystery?

* * *

Sneakers. If someone were to have told him centuries ago that he would enjoy wearing them, he would have never believed them.

Henry wiggled his toes inside them and smiled as though he was a child receiving his first suit again. He had vehemently opposed the idea of wearing them the first time that the officers at the Manhattan Detention Center had offered him a pair. He didn't need them; the soles of his feet were hardened by centuries of walking along rocky shorelines and on bare ground shortly after his awakenings. To his disappointment, they insisted that it was the only way that the judge would release him from custody. He reluctantly accepted them, hoping that they would eventually see his point of view. He, however, had never known how comfortable they would felt until he had stepped outside and had discovered that his step had been much lighter as he had walked in them.

The denim against his leg began to chafe him. He reached down and tugged the wrinkle out of his pants. He groaned. For a moment, he wished that he had trusted his better judgment and had, for once, ignored Arturo's suggestion about his wardrobe.

He snatched his shirt off the bed and slipped it on as fast as he could. The sooner that he could get out of the pants, the better. He preferred to spend the rest of the day in comfort, and he wasn't going to let his clothing dictate his well-being.

He checked his pocket watch and, after an initial attempt to place it in the pocket that was designed for it, dropped it into the larger pocket. He wished that things didn't have to be this way. It was odd to not have his precious heirloom connected to him. Although it hadn't happened yet, he had wondered if it were possible for the timepiece to disappear with the rest of his clothes while still in a pocket. He would hate for a death while dressed modernly to find out whether that theory was true.

He pushed himself off the bed and headed for the window to admire the view in hopes that it would distract him. At the sight of the clear skies and still trees contrasting with an image of him walking through Central Park, Henry wrinkled his eyebrows. The day in question had been cloudy and slightly windy…and very humid. To his left, Dr. Ross had looked at the sky and wondered if it were going to rain….

Turning from the view, Henry huffed. He and Jo might as well get this over with. Based on his previous experiences of this nature, once his memories started flowing, he would not be able to stop them. If he and Jo were to have any free time together, they should start their expedition now.

As he opened his door, a creak filled the air. He followed it across the living room. The corners of his lips rose as Jo appeared in the threshold.

The last time that he had seen her floated back into his consciousness. He studied her reaction and swallowed. He scolded himself. It was no wonder that she had reacted like she had. How could he had not seen that in the moment?

Their eyes met, and he offered her a small smile that he hoped would express his apologies. He rubbed his hand on his nape. "I didn't mean to embarrass you with my sudden appearance at the bathroom door."

Jo opened and closed her mouth. A moment later, she smiled. "For what it's worth, I didn't mind the wake-up call."

He opened his mouth to inquire about her opinion when it hit him. She had overslept herself and had developed the same idea that he had to regain full consciousness.

He grinned. He hadn't expected their encounter to wake him up like it had either. If he were honest with himself, he wouldn't mind it happening again one day.

Jo cocked her head and glanced down as she approached him. "Jeans?"

She stepped around him, her eyes tracing the lower half of his body. Her constant study of him rendered him delightfully motionless. If she touched him now, he would take her in his arms and follow his passions wherever they led.

"They look like the type of denim worn back in the '80s…." She lifted her head and met his gaze. "The 1980s." She muttered to herself. "Only much newer."

When she joined his side, she looked at him grinned. "Where—and when—did you get these?"

He returned to his senses and offered her a lopsided grin. "When I went to Paul Stuart two weeks ago, I mentioned our relationship to Arturo." He chuckled at the memory. "He had suggested that I should wear a pair of jeans when we are to go on their first date. You had seen me in every suit in my closet—and, unbeknown to Arturo, even in the nude several times. Arturo was certain that a new scarf or a new suit would fail to impress you. He then sent my measurements to a specialty jeans shop over on Mercer. I had tried them on and purchased them and three more pairs before we had run."

He bowed his head. "I wanted to surprise you with them this weekend. I, however, decided to pack them since it is more modern causal wear."

Her grin grew larger. "You certainly surprised me with them." She snuck another glance behind him. "They look good on you."

Their eyes met, and Henry found himself gazing deep into them. All the chafing immediately vanished. He no longer cared about his jeans felt on him. With her smile and this moment, she was mysteriously removing his concerns from his consciousness and casting them somewhere where he would never find them.

She broke her gaze, looked away, and sighed. When she returned to him, she tapped him on the chest. Her slight smile failed to reach her eyes.

"Come on. Let's get this over with. I don't see how it will help, but maybe it will shake something out."

"Are you still worried about your memory?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

He took her into his arms and pulled her close to him. He held her, hoping that he could somehow convey his strength to her.

After a while, she leaned back and smiled at him. "Thanks. I needed that."

He released one hand and caressed her cheek. "Anything to make you feel better, _cariña_."

Her eyes widened and sparkled. His heart leapt into his throat. How was it possible that he had…?

Their stomachs growled in almost perfect harmony. They looked at each other and scoffed. How was _that_ possible?

Feeling his body's protest again, he gave her a lopsided smile. "Do you want to go out to brunch before we set out for Summit Rock?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** In "The Fountain of Youth" and "The Art of Murder", Henry indicates that he knows Lucas' daily routine, and he states that he sleeps only six hours a night. Assuming that he and Lucas typically have twelve-hour shifts, it felt natural to assume that Henry is a natural early riser. (The scene where Abe threatens to microwave Henry's breakfast kind of strengthens it for me.)

Ken H., thank you for the germ that sparked the opening scene. Your comment about the minutia of living together in your review for an earlier chapter sprang into my head when I was still blocked, and my imagination took off with it.

The end of Abigail and Henry's date is a reference to the first flashback in "The Last Death of Henry Morgan".

Lt. Reece meeting Adam face-to-face had to be one of the most fun scenes that I had written for the story. Tanya and Kyle were completely unexpected. I have to admit, though, I really enjoyed writing them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

" _Cari_ _ña._ "

The name rolled itself in Jo's mind as they strolled down the path leading to the rocky promontory. She pulled him closer to her and grinned. She had bristled at the name many times over when her mother had used it instead of " _mija_ ". To her, it had always come across as a girly word, something that the tomboy who would eventually aspire to join the NYPD hated. Somehow, though, when the term of endearment rolled off Henry's tongue, with his British accent twirling around the tilde, it sounded so natural, so right to describe her.

Now, if only she could find another nickname for him other than "Mr. Darcy"….

She furrowed her eyebrows. Henry was unusually quiet. She wondered if their charged moment and their comfortable but intimate brunch at a nearby diner could still be affecting him.

She turned her face to him. He peered back over his shoulder. She did the same. Her heart pounded at the empty sidewalk behind them.

Pushing back her growing fears, she hoped that he wasn't thinking the same thing. "What's wrong?"

He blinked and followed her voice. "I thought that I felt someone following us." He scoffed and gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I guess it was a fellow pedestrian."

Swallowing, she broke her gaze. She hoped that it was the case. The cop side of her, however, was telling her to trust her instincts and to follow up on Henry's intuition.

Jo took a deep breath and gathered her courage. They couldn't risk blowing their cover. Henry had taken great pains to read the news on her smartphone—after she had showed him how to get to it—so he could conceal his identity. She could not ask him to turn back to see if they could find the person following them. As much as she wanted to pick up her badge again, she had to leave the thought alone for the time being.

They rounded a corner. With each step, everything started to look like it hadn't changed in years. The leaves on the branches overhead turned darker, and the air grew a little warmer and more humid. The sky suddenly filled with clouds. It was almost as if she….

Her body tingled at the thought. Could it be…?

A series of faint flashes appeared before her eyes. She dropped her jaw. She had parked in the garage one block south of their apartment complex that day. Her fellow colleagues had blocked the path at the Museum of Natural History. Not wanting to deal with the unis, she had jogged up to 85th Street and had crossed over into the park at that intersection.

The point emerged into her view. Her heart sank. She wanted to keep the memory flowing to see how much she remembered, but she hated the idea of going back to her life just as much. She had no idea when they would have another moment to themselves. At the rate that Dr. Washington was going with his autopsies, Henry could be cleaning up after the surly ME for the reminder of her life.

"You've been quiet."

Henry's dulcet voice and American accent pulled Jo out of her thoughts. She turned to him and swallowed. How could she admit…?

She thought back to when he had kept secrets from her. She shoved the idea of keeping her memory from him out of her mind. Every time that he had failed to tell her something vital, it had almost always ended in disaster.

She peered up at the clear sky peeking through the overhead branches and summoned her courage again. When she thought that she had enough, she turned back to him. "It feels as though I'm having a case of deja vu."

His eyes narrowed, and he dropped his jaw. "You are?"

She nodded and filled him in. As he listened, his eyes widened. After a few moments, he stopped. "How…?"

She shrugged about as high as her anchored shoulder could go. "I don't know. It's just coming to me."

Noticing how close they were, she turned to him. "Want to reenact our actions that day?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "How did you read my mind?"

As he released her, she grinned at her good fortune. She hated seeing him look so lost when he was out of his element, and she had woken up this morning wanting to do something—anything—to get him to act more like himself. Somehow, her suggestion energized him in a way that she had seen only a handful of times.

She watched him position himself to where he had been when she had come up on the scene. She narrowed her eyes. She wasn't in the right location. Looking to where she had been, she lined herself up with the other tree in the middle of the promontory.

Once in her new spot, she could see the crime scene tape and the unis lining the scene. The small crowd remained still, transfixed at the sight of the MEs surrounding the body. She scanned the group for anyone who looked suspicious, but no one stood out.

A wave brought her back to the present. Henry twisted until he finally found her. She gave him a smile to let him know that her move was intentional.

After he crouched down, he peered up at the sky. Taking the opportunity, Jo surveyed their surroundings for any suspicious characters. Other than the squirrels and the birds, they had the place all to themselves.

Henry rested his hand on his knee. "If you remember, the morning was rather pleasant, with a temperature of 70. Under ordinary circumstances—."

Jo's lips quirked up. "How do you know what temperature it was? I don't know what it was yesterday."

He chuckled and bowed his head. "I heard Dr. Vaughn complain about it to Dr. Washington after Dr. Ross and I returned to the OCME with Dexter's body." His eyes grew distant. "I haven't thought about that in a long time."

She raised her eyebrows, crossed her arms, and stared at him. "What do you mean?"

He licked his bottom lip. "You know how everything in my life flashes before my eyes before I find myself skinny-dipping again?"

Biting back her laugh at the euphemism, Jo nodded. She had always wondered about it, but she had felt that the question was too personal to ask.

He caught her eye. "Most moments are a complete blur while a few memories, usually connected to my circumstances and my latest thoughts, are more pronounced. My memories of Dexter's murder had always been a part of the blur…until now."

She broke her gaze and looked around for any eavesdroppers. When he had first described his experience to her, she had been fascinated by how much he usually remembered in a short time. She had always suspected that he couldn't remembered much in the few minutes before he breathed his last breath. Now, his behavior after some of the awakenings which she knew about made much more sense.

She refocused her attention onto him. "What else do you remember?"

Henry glanced back up at the sky. "The cloudy weather and the rather pleasant temperature should have slowed the rate of decomposition. When Dr. Ross and I were here, we had discovered that Dexter's body was already in a state of rigor mortis, leading me to suspect that he had been in a struggle before he died. What had puzzled me was the lack of defensive wounds on his body or signs of a struggle on his clothes."

"If that's the case, how did you find the wound on Dexter's body while at the scene?"

Her jaw fell open. How did she know that? Henry had never said where he was when he had discovered the wound. Where did she…?

He stared at her for a moment and then grinned. "Do you want to show me what you were doing when you had first arrived on the scene?"

She returned his smile. "Thought you would never ask."

She stepped back to where she had first seen the crowd. Henry rose to his feet and followed her. Tempted to gaze into his eyes, she ignored him.

"After I ordered the crowd to leave, I came through this way and dove under the crime scene tape." She lifted an arm and ducked low enough to clear the imaginary one. "I noticed the crime scene photographer—." She pointed at the other man's location "—standing over that way and taking pictures of the scene."

She narrowed her eyes. That could explain….

Jo turned to Henry. "Our mysterious photograph could easily be one of the crime scene photos. Someone would have to remove it…."

She swallowed at the same time as him. He broke his gaze. "Adam has access to it." He hissed. "Maybe I should…."

Not wanting him to consider calling the psychopathic immortal again, she laid a hand on Henry's shoulder. "Or it could have another cop. Almost everyone in the building has access to those files. Even you."

He lowered his head and studied the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief. She loved the fact that Henry was always trying to protect her. She, however, would hate herself for the rest of her life if Adam found a way to use it and Henry's love for her to force him off the straight and narrow.

The birds chirped. Jo looked up at the branches and found a nest near the edge of the one closest to her. She smiled as she watched the parents with their offspring. What would it be like to be married again? This time, to be able to have a family? Abe was feeling more and more like a son to her every time that they were together, something that she had first felt when she had to pin the blame for Henry and Abe's break in of Isaac Monroe's warehouse on Henry alone. Not to mention, her mind and her heart raced with the thought of wanting to wake up next to Henry and seeing his bit of bed hair again when she had changed into her clothes earlier that morning. If she and Henry were married…?

"What else do you remember?"

Henry's voice cut through her thoughts and brought her back to reality. She blinked and willed herself to remember what she had just mentioned.

She took a deep breath. "I started to walk toward you when Dr. Ross sprang to his feet and headed to me."

She narrowed her eyes as another flash appeared. "Would you go back to where you were?"

He nodded and obeyed her. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm testing something."

Her jaw dropped. How could she have forgotten that?

She found Henry waiting near the base of the tree. "If my memory serves me correctly, Dr. Ross was taller than you and more muscular."

"He was. What about it?"

"No wonder why I never saw you." She met her boyfriend's eyes. "Dr. Ross blocked my view of you. He, um, he…." She willed herself to keep going with what she was seeing. "I asked him what he had found. He told me not much, but he and his assistant—he never mentioned your name—found a 9 mm hole in our victim's body. He reassured me that you two would examine the body further to discover the cause. I promised him I would drop by the OCME later to follow up on your lead."

She reviewed her words. "How did you even know what type of wound it was? Dr. Ross never said how."

Henry's eyes glazed over. "I discovered an unbuttoned hole in Dexter's dress shirt, peeked through it, and found both the 9 mm hole and the lack of an undershirt…."

His jaw fell open. Jo scanned his face, looking for hints as to what had sparked his memory.

His eyebrows furrowed together, and his gaze returned to the present. "I think I've made a mistake."

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times as Henry lowered himself to the ground. She quickly followed his lead. It was rare for him to make a mistake…and equally as rare for him to admit it. "What?"

He rubbed his hands over his face and rested them on his lips. After a few moments, he turned to her.

"I had assumed that the clothes were Dexter's as they had fit him perfectly. Adults, however do not miss a button on their dress shirts unless they are in a rush or under stress. Coupled that with the unusually clean clothes and the slight trail running from the sidewalk to the tree…." His eyes moved back and forth as he pieced together his clues.

He gazed back at her. "Someone had changed his clothes to make it look like he had spontaneously died on the scene. That means…."

Jo's eyes widened. Ryan and Nick were either potential witnesses or potential suspects.

Henry huffed. "It also means I miscalculated Dexter's time of death. I had assumed that he had been in a struggle immediately before his death. Due to the livor in his legs and the other clues, it must have occurred about an hour and a half earlier."

Jo wrinkled her eyebrows. "How did you miss that?"

He chuckled. "I was very distracted that morning." He turned to her. "Back then, I had been missing my family, Abigail, and everyone who had gone on before, and the anniversaries were taking a toll on me. I began conducting my experiments on a fairly regular basis. Needless to say, Abe wasn't pleased with the idea."

Jo nodded. Abe had expressed his frustration about them on more than one occasion. He even confided that he had been reluctant to kill Henry with the engineer's blood when she had first met them. For years, she had found herself wishing for a way to get through to him and make him see how his thought of ending his life was hurting everyone.

Henry tilted his head several times. "Anyway, Abe and I had argued about my experiments over breakfast. When Dr. Ross and I received the call to come here, I was dissecting our argument in hopes of finding a counterpoint that I could use to convince Abe to let me continue them."

Jo pulled her knees up to her, propped her elbow onto one, and reached behind her head. "What happened after you left the scene?"

He mirrored her posture. "When we returned to the morgue, I told Dr. Ross about my suspicions, and he seemed to have agreed with me. I opened Dexter's shirt." Henry licked his lower lip. "When I saw his wound, I could once again hear Abe angrily telling me that I was being selfish by wanting to take it away from him. I was so startled that I suddenly felt somewhat weak. I grasped the autopsy table to remain upright."

Henry's eyes glazed over again. "Dr. Ross asked me if I was okay. I tried to give him an excuse about the smell of the chemicals in the room, but he didn't buy it. He informed me that he will get an attendant to take Dexter's body back to the cooler and that we would continue the autopsy in the morning. I started to protest when he took me by the arms and told me that my health was more important than a quick assessment of our current 'patient'. With that, he sent me home to rest."

Jo's lips rose. "Did you listen to him?"

Henry chuckled. "I did. You can imagine the look on Abe's face when I arrived home early and told him what had happened. He tried to gloat, but I wouldn't give him that benefit."

Jo gazed around them, trying to see if anyone had overheard them. Thankfully, it seemed as though they had this part of the park to themselves.

She thought back to her own set of memories and tried to use them to prompt another one. She pushed and shoved against the wall blocking the reminder of them from her. It, however, refused to budge.

Frustrated, she stared at the spot where she could have met Henry years ago. Why was it so easy for him to bring back his memories of that day? Was it a result of centuries of doing it for other memories? Or did his immortality preserve his memories like it did his body?

She closed her eyes to stop her thoughts. Yes, it would be easy for her to be jealous of him. Yet, she had to admit that her thoughts were more connected to her current situation than anything else.

"What's wrong?"

She turned to him and huffed. "I wish that I could remember why I never kept my promise to follow up on your and Dr. Ross's lead or what I did after I talked to Dr. Ross. I feel that I had talked it over with Lt. Roarke, but I can't tell you if I did. Why can't I remember it? It's almost as if it's been erased forever."

Henry wrapped his arm around her. "The memory is still there."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You thought that you wouldn't remember this much just a few hours ago."

Jo broke her gaze and bit her lower lip. She guessed that she could consider that progress.

He rubbed her shoulder, bringing her focus back onto him. "I have found that, sometimes, a memory will return when I'm not stressed or forcing myself to remember. Perhaps your memory came back because your mind was relaxed."

She studied his expression. He was speaking from his most recent experience. Maybe he was right. Maybe the rest of her memories were still there, and she didn't need to fight their return.

She gave him a smile which she hoped would reassure him that she was taking his words into consideration. Maybe it was for the best. She had been struggling with it ever since they had started their new life together. If she could forget about their troubles, it might give her the peace of mind that she had been wanting.

She gazed back at the spot where she had stood and shook her head. "Why didn't we notice each other then?"

"I don't know." Henry bit his lower lip. "If fate has a hand on our relationship—" He held up his hand. "I'm not saying that it does—."

"Because it implies that something supernatural is at work."

Henry gaped at her and shook his head. He opened and closed his mouth several times. Jo bit back her smile. It wasn't often that she saw him speechless.

He opened his mouth again. "Perhaps it was not the right time for us to meet." He looked out over the footpath. "Of course, it begs the question of why we had met in 2014 though."

She thought about that for a moment. "I don't know." She rested her hand over his scar. "But I'm glad that we did."

* * *

"No!"

Dr. Washington's voice rang through the autopsy room and in Lucas' ears. Bristling at the gruff tone, he slowly met Dr. Hawthorne's green eyes. Glancing past him, she put down her scalpel, prompting him to follow her lead.

Jeff and the surly ME emerged into view. Dr. Washington walked until he was almost past the room's threshold and spun around. "My results are final. If you exhume Mr. Allen's body…"

Jeff drew himself up to his full height. "Wash, I am _not_ your assistant anymore." He shook a file at the slightly shorter man. "It is my duty and responsibility to—."

"Perhaps you've been spending too much time around Dr. Morgan and allowing him to influence you to break every habit that I had attempted to instill in you." Dr. Washington's face threatened to turn as red as Dr. Hawthorne's curly red hair. "If you prefer to play detective, then I would highly suggest that you rethink whether you are equipped to be a member of this prestigious profession."

Lucas started squirming in his spot. The surly ME always made him feel like he was either a child or stupid. Lucas could only imagine what he was doing to Jeff.

Jeff stared down the other doctor. "I prefer Henry's methods to yours. At least he doesn't get himself suspended for his lack of attention to detail. Or brushing off his assistants and treating them like they were—."

Dr. Washington quickly closed the distance between the men. "Don't you dare compare me to that imbecile _ever_ again. One day, his unprofessionalism and his pursuit of his personal theories will get him fired." He scoffed. "I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't already." A sinister smile spread on his face. "I'm almost willing to bet that the detectives upstairs had lost several cases due to his work recently, and the good Dr. Lippmann finally decided to fire him the other day."

Jeff remained rooted in his spot as he watched Dr. Washington leave. He sauntered in and slammed his file onto the desk of Dr. Hawthorne's usual assistant. He ran a hand through his hair and set it on his hip. "I don't know about that man." He huffed. "If I didn't know any better, I swear that he is trying to sabotage Henry's chances at a promotion one day."

"What was that all about?" Dr. Hawthorne wove around the table and joined Lucas' side.

Lucas closed his eyes. In another life—or up until about seven months ago—he would have so hit on the other doctor. Now, Tori's face and his ideas about their future were always in his mind. He would do almost anything to keep the drop-dead gorgeous woman—her Jo to his Henry—in his life. Even if it meant keeping his eyes to himself.

Noticing Dr. Hawthorne's presence, Jeff's cheeks grew slightly red. He gave them a smile as he broke his gaze at her. He studied the floor for a few quiet moments.

"Lucas, you remember the Chapman case?" He glanced up and swallowed.

"Yeah? What about it?" Lucas' heart pounded in his chest. He hoped that Jeff didn't have to turn it over to Dr. Washington. If so, they never would be able to call Manhattan's Dynamic Duo out of hiding.

Jeff drummed his fingers on the file, studied it for a moment, and picked it up. He scoffed. "Ever since I read Dr. Ross' report, his name needled something in my memory. Last night, it struck me." He broke his gaze again. "I'm going to have to remove myself from the case."

"What?!" Lucas' jaw fell open. "Why can't you do it?"

Jeff cleared his throat. "Prior to his death, Detective Chapman had been investigating the death of a Trevor Allen…."

Dr. Hawthorne stepped a little closer to Jeff and crossed her arms. "Trevor Allen? Didn't he work for the Kaspar and Rune law firm?"

Jeff's eyes widened. "Yes, he did." He then chuckled. "How did you—?"

She softly chuckled. "I've had to counter their cross-examinations when they had a couple of criminal cases involving New Yorkers' deaths in New Jersey several years ago. Their lawyers tend to be very thorough in presenting their cases."

Lucas rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and groaned. He wasn't sure who was worse at drawing out a story: the man standing in front of him or the immortal he called his friend. "Come on, now. Don't keep us in suspense. What about him?"

Jeff's eyes finally met his. "We, um, Dr. Washington and I had been called to Kaspar and Rune the day before he had been assigned to the case. From what we had gathered from Trevor's boss, Vanna Kaspar, Trevor was a junior partner with them. Four days before Detective Chapman died, Mrs. Kaspar found Trevor dead at his desk and called both the police and us. When we got Trevor's body back here and started the internal exam, I immediately recognized a major tear in his aorta, suggesting that Trevor had died with an aortic dissection." The vein in the other ME's head started to bulge. "Wash, however, insisted that Trevor was murdered due to the location of his body. I wanted to keep my job, so I, um, I…." His face fell, and he peered at the folder in his hands.

"You bit your tongue and backed off, huh?" Lucas kept his eyes on the man. How many times had he done that himself? Henry's three week, two day, and a few hours absence from work during his first year of working with Jo had proven to be the thing to infuse the assistant ME with the courage to speak up and to make his point known. And, man, did it feel good when Henry had confirmed his findings.

Jeff nodded and scoffed. "I know I shouldn't have, but I did." Sighing, he took a step closer. "I was lucky just to get him to agree to bring Trevor's body back here. I think that he would have sent Trevor's body straight to the funeral home if I wasn't so insistent on following proper protocol."

He fingered the object in his hands. "Now, thanks to Wash's incompetence, I want to exhume Trevor's body as well as Detective Chapman's. With the exception of Henry on a few occasions…." He scrunched his face. "I mean…."

Lucas' heart drowned out the rest of Jeff's words. What exactly did Jeff know about his favorite man? Did he see one of Henry's deaths and hadn't told anyone about it? What if he was another stalker? What if he _was_ Henry and Jo's current stalker? Adam was already creepy enough, but Jeff….

The air suddenly left the room. Lucas willed himself to breathe. He didn't know anything yet. He was letting his imagination run away with him. Which was ironic since Henry usually had been the one….

"Do you want me to exhume both bodies and see if I could collaborate your and Dr. Ross' findings?"

Dr. Hawthorne's voice cut through Lucas' thoughts. He blinked in time to find her looking at Jeff.

Jeff stammered. "Would you?" He passed the folder to her. "I would forever be in your debt if you did."

The slight glint in Jeff's eyes caught Lucas' attention. He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. The last time that he had seen something like it, Henry had eagerly—and, back then, very uncharacteristically—volunteered to take Hans Koehler's fingerprint results upstairs to Jo….

Lucas' heart sank. He dropped his gaze down to his shoes. What he wouldn't give to have them back. The OCME was empty without Henry's enthusiastic mutterings and Jo's rhythmic heels on the tile floors.

Jeff gazed at a spot over his head. Upon returning his attention back to them, he sighed. "I don't think I'm ready for another interrogation from the detectives upstairs."

Dr. Hawthorne lifted her head and her eyebrows. "What investigation? Why do you say that?"

Jeff's eyes traveled from Lucas to his colleague and back again. "I'll explain later, but, um…." He ran a hand through his hair. "The detectives were only following the leads in the death of my cousin Brent, so they had to question me since I was one of the last people to see him alive."

He glanced back at Lucas and swallowed. Lucas nearly jumped out of his skin. What was running through the man's head?

Looking for a distraction, Lucas closed the gap between them and grabbed Jeff's elbow. "It won't be that bad with if Mike and Lt. Reece are questioning you."

He bit his tongue. He might have been known to let a few things slip, but there was no way that he was going to ruin this.

He nudged the other man toward the door. "Come on. I'll lend you some moral support."

* * *

"Lucas?"

Lucas snapped his head toward Jeff. "What?"

"Do you have any idea what happened to Henry or Detective Martinez? Henry hasn't been here in a couple of days, and I've heard two of the officers upstairs talking about Detective Martinez's sudden disappearance as well. You don't suppose…?"

"No." Lucas tried to control his pounding heart and his racing thoughts. "It's nothing like that."

Knowing that Jeff wanted answers, Lucas shook his head. He trusted the man, and he hated keeping the situation from him. But, Henry and Jo's return depended on absolute secrecy.

Before he could answer Jeff, the elevator stopped. As the doors slid open, Lucas breathed out a sigh of relief. _Saved by the doors_.

He pointed himself toward his unofficial boss's office. The moment that he approached Jo's empty desk, his heart sank again. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care since he knew that she was out in the field, at home, having a girls' day out with Karen, or spending the day with Henry and Abe. This time, though….

He shook himself out of his thoughts. He would not be of any help to Henry and Jo if he kept thinking like that.

He willed himself to focus on his mission. Within a few steps, he found himself out Lt. Reece's office. He peered in her window. She and Mike were at her desk, their heads buried in a pile of files. A stack of boxes sat beside the chairs.

Mike threw down his pile. "Lieu, I don't get it. I've been through all these photos, and I think we're missing one."

Lucas' heart pounded in his chest. He hoped that Jeff wasn't hearing what he was hearing.

He glanced at the other man and mentally cussed. Jeff stood at the window, totally fascinated by what he was seeing.

Lt. Reece looked up at Mike. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know." Mike leaned back in his chair and lifted his arm over his head. "Shouldn't there be one showing the scene and the crime scene tape?"

"Yes, it should." Lt. Reece motioned for the pile and flipped through the quickly.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "You're right. That one is missing. Who could have taken it?"

Lucas rolled the idea around in his head. Now would be a good time to tell them what he had found.

He grabbed the door knob and swung the door open. His long legs hurried over to his friends.

"Lucas?" Lt. Reece peered up at him and raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"

Grinning, he motioned for Jeff to come into the room. "I think we have a lead."

* * *

Their conversation replayed in Jo's head as she leaned against Henry and enjoyed the moment. His unspoken realization came back to her so sharply that she jolted in his arms.

She turned to him to see if he had noticed. To her surprise, he acted as though it hadn't phased him.

She nudged him, and he blinked before looking at her. "Huh?"

She grinned. "Lost in thought again?"

He returned her smile. "In a way, you could say that."

She studied him. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but she couldn't help but to slip back into cop mode again. "How are we going to talk to Ryan and Nick without breaking our cover or interfering in Mike and Lt. Reece's investigation?"

He mulled her words over for a few minutes before regarding her again. He sighed. "I guess that we should leave questioning our neighbors up to them. I don't see any way that our parallel investigation would help this time."

Jo opened her jaw. For once in his immortal life, he was going to do what everyone else told him? Who was he, and what did he do with Henry Morgan?

He tilted his head. "Mike and Lt. Reece need to be apprised of the situation, though."

She opened her mouth to ask him whether a call would lead one of their stalkers to them….

"… _and I do expect you to call us if you remember anything…."_

She glanced down at her pocket. They needed to know as soon as possible.

"I'll call Mike after we get back to the apartment."

She looked at her watch. The day was still young. Mike and Lieu were likely following up on a lead right about now. She and Henry could do something to pass the time before their friend and colleagues returned.

Henry released her and rose to his feet. A moment later, he reached down to her.

"Do you want to do something else while we're out?"

She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. She gazed into his eyes. How could he always make her feel as though she was a queen and he was her knight?

Remembering that he expected a response, she found her words and smiled at him. "How did you read my mind?"

"How about the bookstore that we had seen?"

She giggled and tapped his chest. "Are we talking about getting several _Mad Libs_ books or your desire to add to your library?"

He opened his mouth to protest. She reached up and laid a finger on his lips. His eyes widened, and his lips brushed against her skin as they closed. Each speck of his eyes and his warm breath called to her and enticed her to inch closer to him. To rest her forehead on his. To—.

She blinked herself out of her daydream. If she wanted to do something, now would be the time to do it.

She grinned at him. "Let's go."

As they left for their spot, Jo peered over her shoulder. She hated to leave the two mysteries alone for the time being, but she had no choice. Yet, maybe it was for the best. There was not much that she could do about their situation…

…except for spending the rest of this time with Henry.

She pulled him closer to her. She might not know why they hadn't met almost a decade before, but that didn't matter now. They were together now…

…and, if she were honest with herself, she was looking forward to seeing where it would lead.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Jo calling herself a "tomboy" comes from Henry's reaction to her holding the prince of Urkesh in "The King of Columbus Circle", her ponytails toward the beginning of S1 and her comment about her appearance being a liability in "Fountain of Youth". I'm assuming that she becomes a little bit of one growing up in East Harlem. Her shoe fetish and her interest in more feminine clothes come with puberty.

Henry's description of his flashes comes from his river of memories preceding his death in an episode. I'm using the one in "The Last Death of Henry Morgan" as a reference since it is the most detailed (courtesy of the most footage for it).


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note** : Sorry I'm late in posting the chapter. I suddenly found myself in a bit of an emotional funk—which I am over now—when I started to write the chapter, and I couldn't bring myself to write anything. Now, the words are flowing again, and I've been able to finally get around to it. I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

"What were you like back then?"

Henry cursed himself as the question escaped his mouth. Their surroundings did not afford them the opportunity to talk freely. If he were to have his way, he would have refrained from asking the impertinent question until they had returned to their apartment. As he had chosen to give into his impulse, all he could hope for was that no one would overhear them.

She pulled her lips together and tilted her head down. He clinched his teeth as he fought back the bile that had risen up in his mouth. Nor did they have the continuity of Jo's memory. He knew what staring into the fog of oblivion and being unable to see what he desperately needed was like. He hated putting her through the same ordeal.

She finally lifted her head and gazed up at him. He took a deep breath and hoped that he wouldn't damage their relationship by forcing her to do something that she could not.

He offered her a small smile. "My apologies. I haven't heard you mention that part of your life before. I…."

Jo returned his smile with one of her own. "I know. Don't worry about it."

Henry gazed into her brown eyes. Her past had always been a bit of a mystery to him. Even though she had been far more forthcoming with her life than he had when they had started to work together, she still hadn't mentioned as much about it as he had thought that she would. He had always believed that it was because of her past pain and her guarded nature. Based on her complaints about hearing all of Mike's stories, Henry suspected that she could also be pacing her own so she could maintain a conversation with him. He, however, had always pushed back the utterly ridiculous notion and let her take him where her memory led.

She turned her head and stared at something ahead of him. Soon, her eyes grew more distant, and a soft smile graced her face. She pulled him closer to her, her warmth threatening to derail his thoughts and his attention.

He guided her around a couple of fellow pedestrians walking toward the baseball fields near Summit Rock. After taking a glance over his shoulder to ensure that no one had recognized them, his eyes traveled her face. His jaw fell slightly open. Everyone had commented about him getting lost in his thoughts or had teased him about taking a trip down memory lane without them. Did he look like that every time that his past called to him?

After what had felt like an eternity, she finally blinked herself out of her trance and smiled at him. "As you have already deduced, it was long before I met Sean or Mike." She tilted her head. "I was a fairly young detective eager to prove myself in the field…."

He furrowed his forehead. "What do you mean by 'fairly young'? I thought that you had been promoted shortly after your probationary period." He had once overheard a pair of officers who had arrested him congratulate a friend on making the rank as they had escorted their immortal prisoner to his cell at the Manhattan Detention Center. Given Jo's exceptional abilities, he had assumed that she had done the same.

Jo's eyes met his. "I had. I took down a murderous colleague over in burglary and uncovered his burglary ring a month before my eighteen months were up." Her lips curled into a soft smile. "But, my first three years as a detective were another probation period. When I finished, I felt like I could finally call myself a detective."

Henry nodded. It wasn't until after his first solo case without Dr. Ross—and with Lucas—when he had finally felt that he was worthy of the title which historians had long attributed to him for his work in the Jack the Ripper case.

He turned away from Jo. A part of him longed to know how his former mentor was doing. Another one longed to hear Lucas' jokes and unconventional—if not occasionally outlandish—assumptions. He fought them both back to maintain his focus on Jo.

She nudged him toward her. He glanced up in time to see a pair of additional pedestrians taking advantage of the warm weather. He nodded an acknowledgement of their presence before turning back to a smiling Jo. He gave her a lopsided smile to thank her for her foresight.

"Anyway," her voice lured him back to her story. "I wasn't seeing anyone at the time, so it meant that I was spending a lot of time visiting Mom." She giggled and combed loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "Of course, Mom was bugging me about when I was going to find myself someone and settle down."

"She doesn't have to worry about that now."

Jo jostled her hip into his, sending a delightful tingle that obscured his thoughts throughout his body. "I think that she has been trying to set us up since you first met her." She sighed and smiled. "She almost yelled when I told her that we were dating. She almost never yells. The last time she did…."

Jo's voice broke as well as her gaze. Henry bowed his head and nodded. The last time that she had was when Jo had informed her mother of her and Sean's relationship.

She huffed and turned back to him. "I told her that I wasn't interested at the moment since I wanted to become more established in my job before I started dating. She was thrilled when Sean and I announced our engagement. Now…"

She stopped, turned him toward her, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers tickled his nape as she interlocked her fingers. His chest filled with a familiar heat. He willed himself to breathe.

"Now, I'm yours." His soft escaped words sounded distant yet delightful in his ears. It was almost as if he had spoken all of his heart's desires in them.

The sound of footsteps growing louder snapped him out of his fog. He blinked and shook his head. How was it possible for her to cast such a spell over him? To make him so willing to reveal even the tiniest details about himself that he would ignore both convention and logic to grant her request?

He noticed where they were standing and peered down a path. It wasn't far, but he was sure that she would enjoy seeing another part of his past.

Her eyes on him called unto him. He turned around and gave her a lopsided grin. "How would you like it if I showed you something very special?"

 **###**

"This is either really romantic or really morbid. Knowing you, it's probably a mix of both."

Not releasing Jo's hand, Henry pulled away just enough to take the lead. He squinted, nodded his head, and grinned. "It's far more romantic than morbid."

They rounded the final corner leading to the place that he had in mind. He studied the facade and smiled. How many times had he come here since his far more recent return to New York? How many times had he visited the site to escape his worries and troubles? To spend a few short hours enjoying the site's offerings instead of focusing on his past and future heartbreaks?

Gasping, her eyes traveled between the building and him. "Delacorte Theater?" Taking another peek at the facade, she scoffed. "How did I forget about your enjoyment of the theater?" Her eyes locked onto his and refused to let them go. "How often did you come here?"

He took her by the waist and pulled her to him as close as he could. "Quite frequently when I was single. After I returned to New York, I would take advantage of the annual Shakespeare in the Park productions."

For a moment, the mind behind her eyes churned as it did when they were in the field. "After you had returned to New York. When you were single. This was after you had…."

He swallowed to alleviate the sudden dryness in his throat. He broke his gaze to regain some control over his emotions. After he had returned to New York in the mid-1990s, he had come here to forget the pain of Abigail's disappearance and the thoughts of Abe's eventual death.

She reached around his neck and entwined her fingers. "You came here to get away from everything. Does Abe know about it?"

Her question pulled him away from the painful memories and back to the shores of the present. He returned her smile with one of his own.

"He does." He scoffed. "He's the only one who knows. I never brought one of my dates here."

"Not even Molly or your more recent girlfriends?"

His already upturned lips soared even higher. "Not even them."

The specks of amber in Jo's brown eyes swept him back under her spell. This was why he had never brought anyone here. He had felt that he could not risk giving another woman his whole heart, and he had locked it up for over twenty years. Jo, however, had found his key when they had met and had used it to open him up in ways that he had never imagined.

"How often had you quoted Shakespeare after the play?"

He opened and closed his mouth as he searched for his words. "Not often."

One piece of the Bard's works came to him. "Do you want me to quote you something from one of his works?"

As she nodded, it took everything within him to remember the piece. He sighed and smiled at her as her eyes encouraged him to continue.

" _Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

 _Admit impediments. Love is not love_

 _Which alters when it alteration finds,_

 _Or bends with the remover to remove._

 _O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

 _That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

 _It is the star to every wand'ring bark,_

 _Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._

 _Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_

 _Within his bending sickle's compass come;_

 _Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

 _But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

 _If this be error and upon me prov'd,_

 _I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd._ _"_

Jo leaned forward until her forehead approached his nose. He grinned and met her response with a head nod. The moment their foreheads touched, it sent a shock wave through him that removed everything but his desire to be with her.

She flashed a smile at him. "I'm not a Shakespeare expert, but I'm pretty sure that's not from _Othello_ or _Twelfth Night_."

"What makes you think that?"

"The sign near the entrance and we read _Twelfth Night_ , _A Midsummer Night_ _'s Dream_ , and _As You Like it_ in high school."

He pulled back and chuckled. "You've caught me." He pulled her closer to him. "It's 'Sonnet 116'." He turned to the clue and back to her before his logic took over again. "Neither play holds any words of romantic value at the moment."

She brought one arm down to his chest and rested her hand on it. Her fingers brushed over his ancient scar. As he mentally followed her gentle touch and committed its path to memory, he could feel himself opening up even more with each passing movement.

"Whoever said that poetry…" Her soft voice, even as it trailed off, called to him and asked him to join her in her mind's and her heart's journey.

" _Now, I'm yours."_

He gaped at her as the words washed over him again. He would be hers until the end of time.

Her eyes sparkled as they dropped to his lips. He followed them down to her own. When he dared to look up, his gaze fell completely into hers.

She didn't have to say it. He knew what she wanted.

He bowed his head slightly down so his lips could finally meet hers….

"If you're waiting for tickets, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a couple of more weeks. _Othello_ 's on deck first."

Henry nearly jumped at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He waited for a couple of minutes for the haze to fade from his vision and his mind. He reluctantly peered around Jo and saw a short, brown-haired woman standing behind her.

"We'll take that into consideration." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jo brush back another fallen strand of hair over her ear.

As the woman disappeared into the theater's box office, Henry studied Jo. His heart ached. He wished that they hadn't been interrupted. How he longed to….

Jo peered around him for a moment. "If we're still here at the end of the month, do you want to come here for opening night?"

"We could…."

His eyes widened. She was asking him out on a date.

 _A date_.

He gaped at the word. The thought of using their time together to go on their first date had never crossed his mind.

His eyes wandered in the direction of the movie theater to their south. The film festival that Abe and Fawn had discovered would end soon. Perhaps he could ask her if she wanted to go there first.

A slight breeze tousled his hair. Keeping one eye out for suspicious onlookers, he pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. He turned back to her. If they wanted to inform Lt. Reece and Mike of what they had learned….

His heart ached. He hoped that they hadn't found the new stalker. He didn't want to return to his life and to have the uncertainty of spending more time with her.

Looking into Jo's expectant eyes, he gathered his courage. He hoped that they would be able to have all the time that they needed to get to know each other more intimately. He wasn't sure what would happen if they couldn't.

 **###**

"I can't believe what passes for modern literature."

Jo set the bag filled with several _Mad Libs_ books on the coffee table and turned to Henry. She bit back her laughter at his narrowed eyes and wrinkled nose. He never knew how cute he was when he was being a curmudgeon.

"How do people read that drivel?" He looked at her. "I understand people's desire for a good story, but the vapid plots elude me."

She turned to him and planted one hand on her hip. "I'm sure that _Pride and Prejudice_ and _Jane Eyre_ were considered pretty racy in their day."

He bowed his head and rested his hands on the end table between the sofa and kitchen. "As was _Daphnis and Chloe_ decades before."

She raised her eyebrows. She had never heard him mention it before.

He lifted his head and gave her a sheepish grin. "I might have perused it in my youth." He held up his hand. "Mind you. I was merely an infatuated teenager seeking insight into the feminine mind. I…."

A giggle escaped her. She quickly sobered to keep him from wondering if she was making fun of him. "Who was the girl?"

Henry eased around the table and joined Jo at the sofa. "Elizabeth Norton." He bowed his head, rubbed his hair, and then grinned. "She was our newly-arrived next-door neighbor, and I convinced myself that I would marry her the moment that I laid eyes on her. As our families met for parties and outings, we had frequently found ways to get some time to ourselves. Much to my surprise, she had felt the same way."

Jo studied his face. He had once clearly stated that Nora was his first wife. "What happened?"

He gestured toward the sofa. As they sat, he scoffed. "We had agreed to meet each other and flee to Gretna Green to get married. As my parents and I were staying with my grandparents on the family estate at the time, I commandeered a horse in the middle of the night. One of the servants coming out of the outhouse caught me and…."

"…busted you." Jo stifled her laugh at his serious expression. "Why did they stop you?"

He gazed into her eyes. "Neither of us had our parents' approval. My parents had believed that I was too young to start my own family and had felt—rightly so, as it turned out—I could benefit by waiting until I was established in my profession before I contemplated marriage. Hers had felt that we were merely social climbers due to our involvement in the shipping trade. They sent her off to relatives in Bristol, and I never saw her again."

Jo rested her hand on his. "I'm sorry to hear that." She squeezed it. "You don't need much advice on the feminine mind now." She had no idea that his recitation of poetry would have quite the effect on her. The moment he had said "romantic", the lines had come back to her, and she had found herself completely unable to resist her impulses. If they hadn't been interrupted…..

He chuckled and ran his free hand through his hair. "One of the benefits of living as long as I have, I guess."

Her eyes traced a path over his young-looking face. She didn't know what she would have done if he had died permanently that fateful day. All she knew was that her life would not be the same without him.

Her mind went back to the last thought. She groaned as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Mike's number. She was having such a great time with Henry. Why did reality have to rudely interrupt them in a way that made Abe look like he was unlucky with his timing?

"Aw, man." The traffic in the background kept Jo from asking Mike what was wrong. "Hey, Jo. I wasn't expecting you to call this soon. You're missing us already?"

She bit her lower lip. She wished that she could remember more about that day. "Not exactly."

"Then, what is it?" A car's horn blasted her ears. "Did you remember something?"

Jo squared her shoulders and steeled herself. "Please tell me that you're on speaker and that Lieu is with you."

"Tell me that you guessed." Jo could almost hear Lieu crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"We need someone to run a background check on a couple of our new neighbors, Ryan Fugate and Nick Lane. We don't think they're suspects, but they might have been the last people to see Dexter alive or to place him in the building before his death."

Her heart ticked off the seconds of silence on the other end. She hoped that they wouldn't take too long to decide whether her and Henry's concern was serious enough to consider.

"Did either of them mention talking to the police?"

Jo almost dropped her phone at Lt. Reece's question. She furrowed her eyebrows. "We haven't met Ryan yet. Nick, however, mentioned that he had overheard Ryan say he saw Dexter enter one of the apartments but never leave."

"That's odd."

Jo cocked her head. Lieu wouldn't say that unless she had a reason.

Another couple of silence passed. Mike's suit brushed up against his seat, causing an audible scrape to come through the phone. "We might have some news for you."

Jo's eye caught Henry's as he shifted to face her. "News about what?"

"Jo's told you, hasn't she, Doc?

Henry chuckled. "She has her speaker on."

Mike drew a breath through his teeth. "We questioned Dr. Ross and Dexter's wife Megan yesterday. Dr. Ross confirmed what you told us in Lieu's office."

Jo tilted her head. "What about Megan?"

It was Lieu's time to shift in her seat. "That's the strange thing. She mentioned that she didn't speak with a detective about Dexter's death."

Another vague sensation tickled Jo's memory. She shoved it aside. It was likely nothing.

"Jo?" Lieu's voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you sure that you don't remember something? I re-read your files…."

Jo's chilling blood froze her and drowned out Lieu's words. She wasn't thinking that she had covered up another man's death.

Was she?

The thought thawed out her mouth. "Lieu, you know me better than that. The only times that I had covered anything up were Abe's theft of The Frenchman's ledger and Clausen's documents, Henry and Abe's appearance at Isaac's warehouse, Henry's theft of Adam's _pugio_ , and Henry's deaths out in the field the year before you learned about his immortality."

She closed her eyes. Those were the only instances where she worried about internal affairs looking deeper into her cases. There was no way that she—or anyone else on the team, for that matter—could explain Henry's existence without them being sent to Bellevue or someone finding Henry and taking him to a lab to experiment on him.

Mike huffed. "We're only following the evidence where it leads."

Jo found a spot between her and Henry and trained her gaze onto it. She would do the same if their positions were reversed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Henry sliding the pieces of the case together. "How did Megan react when you had spoken with her?"

Mike cleared his throat. "She seemed like she wanted to bury that part of her past. She had moved to Brighton Beach and changed her name. The entire time that we were talking to her, she had, um, she had…."

Jo's eyes traveled back to the spot that she had found. In a split second, she saw Sean's casket sitting on the biers at the altar of the church where the funeral had been held. She sat in her pew, unable to focus her mind or her gaze on anything. She could hear her mother urging her to see Sean one final time. A noise broke through long enough to spark something in her. She slowly twisted around and stared at Mike and Karen, who poked him with her elbow as her way of telling him that it was okay if he left her side. He eased around his wife and made his way to the front pew. He apologized his partner's mother and squatted down in front of Jo. After convincing her to go to the casket, he escorted her to her husband one last time. Jo's knees buckled under her. Mike held her hand and had wrapped his arm around her while he had escorted her back to her seat.

Feeling the warmth of Henry's hand covering hers, she pulled herself out of her memory and gazed into his eyes. He didn't have to tell her, but she knew that he was thinking the same thing.

She resisted the temptation to shake her head. When did she start reading his thoughts?

"Jo? Henry?" Lieu's voice commanded Jo's attention. "Are you two still there?"

Jo drew in a breath of now warm air. "We are." She sucked in some air through her teeth. "We also think that our mysterious photo is one of the crime scene pictures. And Henry remembers a few things."

"Like what?" A honk penetrated the air. "Oh, come on now." Mike's voice rose above the traffic. "The light was still red." He paused. "What do you remember?"

Henry took a deep breath. "Dexter was missing an undershirt, and the dress shirt and pants were not his. As I told Jo, his buttons were misaligned, but the fit of the clothes had convinced me that they were his."

Jo could almost hear Lt. Reece raise an eyebrow. "How could you miss that?"

"It's a long story."

"What else?"

Henry sighed. "I now suspect that Dexter's death occurred an hour and a half before the time that I had given Dr. Ross. I was distracted at the time, and I…"

"Henry," Lieu's soft voice calmed Jo's nerves. "You don't have to explain now." She shifted in her seat. "We're headed to Kasper and Rune now. Jeff told us and Lucas that he and Dr. Washington had examined the body of one of their attorneys, Trevor Allen, four days before Dexter died. Because Dr. Washington thought that Trevor was murdered, Dexter had been called in to investigate. Do either of those names ring a bell, Jo?"

Trevor Allen's name didn't, but Kaspar and Rune poked at something in her memory. Remembering Henry's words to not force it, she set it aside for the time being. "Kaspar and Rune sounds familiar, but I'm not sure. It could be because we've encountered them at trial before."

"Keep us posted on what you find. Just don't try to conduct your own investigation. Your covers depend on it."

"Don't worry, Lieu." Jo smiled at Henry. "We don't plan to."

"Who is the guy with you?" Mike's arched eyebrow was almost audible. "And what did he do with Henry Morgan?"

"We'll keep you posted." Jo stared at the phone. "Bye, Mike."

Jo could hear Lieu starting to giggle as she hung up. She raised her eyes. She had never heard Lieu giggle before.

She then grinned. Something told Jo that Lieu knew what her intentions were.

She turned back to a grinning Henry. She had wished that they had more time to themselves. Now, since they did, she planned to take full and total advantage of it while it lasted.

 **###**

As good as it was to hear Jo's and Doc's voices, Mike wished that they were working beside him. He hated the thought of never joining them in an investigation ever again.

He grinned at the sound of the couple's voices. He shouldn't feel too jealous about the situation. Both of his friends sounded more well-rested than he had heard them in over a month. And Jo was quite eager to get rid of him when she hung up.

Before he could react, the receptionist's desk loomed into view. He pushed the thoughts aside. He could try to figure out why she reacted like she had later. Right now, he had a job to do.

The receptionist looked up from their work. Mike leaned over the desk. "We're looking for Vanna Kaspar."

As the secretary started to point them in the direction of the office, a well-dressed woman strolled up to the desk. "I'm Vanna Kaspar. What do you want?"

Mike flashed his badge. "NYPD. We're here to ask you a few questions about one of your former attorneys, Trevor Allen."

Vanna's eyes widened. "Right this way."

As they made their way to her office, Mike swallowed back his fears. He believed that Jo was honest with them about the law firm being vaguely familiar. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that she knew more about the situation than they thought. He hoped that she would remember a lot more before they hit a brick wall.

Vanna led them into an office near the back of the floor. As they settled into the chairs in front of Vanna, Mike looked around. If he didn't know any better, he could have mistaken it for Karen's.

Vanna smoothed her coat and leaned forward. "What do you want to know about Trevor?"

"We've been told that you found him dead in his office. Is that correct?"

She nodded. "I did. I don't know how it happened. It was almost as if he suddenly dropped dead at his desk."

Mike nodded. Dr. Newell had mentioned seeing Trevor's aortic dissection before Dr. Washington had shut him up. Somehow, the detective trusted Henry and Lucas' new friend over Dr. Washington any day.

"What happened beforehand?" Lieu's voice and authority pulled him out of his thoughts. "Someone must have seen or heard something."

Vanna glanced between them. "Several people, including junior partner Emma Rodman's paralegal, heard Emma arguing with Trevor about his recent promotion half an hour before Trevor's death." She sighed. "Anyway, the next day, a Dexter Chapman from the NYPD dropped by the office and questioned everyone. We told him that Emma had called in sick and would be back tomorrow. He returned the next day and questioned her. After that, I don't know what happened. It seemed that the investigation was dropped for no reason.

Mike arched his right eyebrow. This sounded as suspicious as Dexter's death.

He cleared his throat. "What was Emma and Trevor's relationship like?"

Vanna shook her head. "They were bitter rivals. When we promoted Trevor to senior partner, I heard her telling her paralegal that he had used his and my husband Darnell's partnership to make partner. Darnell, however, was adamant against Trevor's promotion due to the appearance of favoritism toward him. I sided with my husband, but the rest of the partners felt that he was good enough to be promoted."

Lieu leaned forward. "Where is Emma now?"

Vanna shrugged. "I don't know. She left the firm two weeks later. Her paralegal did tell me that Emma and her boyfriend Cody got married about two weeks after that."

Mike's ears piqued at their lead. "Do you know where Cody works or his last name?"

Vanna shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't. Emma never mentioned either. We assumed that she wanted to keep her personal life out of her work, so we didn't ask her about it."

"Where is the paralegal now?"

"She left for L.A. Something about her parents. I really can't tell you."

Mike studied the lawyer. He pulled his lips together. He had hoped that she would provide them with a lead. Now…

She cocked her head. "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more. You are welcome to question everyone else."

Lieu nodded. "We will."

As Mike started to leave, he looked at the two women. He wished that they could learn more about the two mysterious deaths. If they could, they would be closer to solving the case and bringing Doc and Jo back to where they belonged.

The sun shone bright as Mike and Lt. Reece left the law firm. He stared down at the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. Unfortunately, no one else had any more information for them, and it seemed like those who had had already left. He wished that Jo and Doc would remember more about that day and provide them with a huge lead.

"Vanna's claims sound credible, don't they?"

Lieu's voice snapped Mike out of his thoughts. "It seems like she confirmed everything that we've heard so far." He huffed. "I don't get it. Jo would have come here if she had felt that someone would give her a lead. Why haven't they?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe whatever's causing her memory loss stopped her before she had the chance."

"Yeah, maybe."

Vanna's statement overlapped with his discovery of Jo's townhouse. His eyes widened. Why didn't he think of that? "I don't know about you, but I think Emma didn't say what Cody's occupation was to protect him. If his profession is as dangerous as ours…."

Lieu remained quiet for a few moments. Mike used that time to study the sidewalk. He wrinkled his forehead. The section that they were walking on looked newer than the rest. Maybe Doc had heard something about the project back then.

"Why didn't I think of that?"

Mike snapped his head toward Lieu. "What is it?"

"Cody." She huffed. "Or should I say, Captain Cody Sheridan."

"What? Do you mean the captain of the homicide squad? How do you know him?"

She turned to him. "He was throwing a retirement party for one of the deputy chiefs the other day. I was invited, but I turned it down because of the work load and our current case."

"How long had he been working on the squad?"

"Twenty years. He had made captain in…."

Lieu stopped, and her eyes met his. "He had first made captain back in 2009."

Mike's heart started racing. All cases, both on the record and off, went straight through him.

He swallowed. "You don't think…?"

Lieu huffed. "He almost has to know about the new safe house and Jo's and Henry's sudden absences."

He turned away from her. Even if they had nothing to link the captain to either death, Mike hoped that they hadn't tipped off one of their suspects.

She sighed. "We would have let Henry take the lead on this one. He would've known how to hide himself and Jo so well that no one could find them."

Jo's playful "Bye, Mike" came back. His stomach lurched. "Something tells me that Doc would have rejected that idea since it would have meant breaking up with Jo and never seeing her again." There had been too many moments in the past where Doc had felt the need to sacrifice his life in New York and even his freedom to protect her. Now, since he likely saw a future with her, he would do anything to keep himself from losing it.

Mike blinked and shook his head. Where did he get that idea?

"Do you think Abe would let us use the shop to discuss our options?"

They resumed their walk. "As long as we don't scare him with what we have found. He might head to Doc and Jo's apartment and warn them himself." He knew he would if it were his parents.

"I'll call him when we get back to the car." She chuckled. "We might be interrupting him on his date with Fawn, though."

"Beats having your children interrupt you during an intimate moment." This morning was no exception.

"You and Karen?"

"Don't remind me." He swore that his two hooligans timed their shenanigans perfectly with one of his and Karen's more romantic moments.

As they headed back to the car, Mike's mind wandered back to their findings and Doc and Jo's relaxed voices. He hoped that they wouldn't interrupt the new couple with a new development. They were barely getting their new life together started. He certainly didn't want to ruin it now.

 **###**

 **Author's Note:** ***Dodging tomatoes thrown at me for the interrupted kiss*** I know, I know. I keep writing interrupted kisses. I promise you, it will be satisfying when one happens. (If there's one in this story, I'm not saying! ;P)

Jo's promotion and extra education are from "How long would it take to make detective in the NYPD?" on 's forum and "NYPD Detective promotion and pay, How does it work?" on . The quote is from Shakespeare's "Sonnet 116". The three plays in high school are out of my own high school experience and an assumption that some of East Harlem's teachers would be a little hesitant to let their students read _Romeo and Juliet_ , _Julius Caesar_ , or _Hamlet_ because of their content. Henry's rant about modern literature and Jo's reminder are something I came up with. _Daphnis and Chloe_ is an ancient Greek romance novel that Henry would have read as a part of his classical education.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note** : ***washes off the tomatoes that landed on me after the last chapter*** I didn't want to write the second scene that way, but that was where the plot went. I think that I'll be making it up to you soon.

On a serious note, I hope to post my chapters more regularly (about every two weeks). When I started writing and posting this story, I had no idea how life would turn out, and it affected both my writing and my posting. (If you haven't noticed, I posted several of my chapters three weeks to a month apart at times. If you've read my other works as I've posted, you know I rarely do that.) Now, things have settled down, and I hope to be on a more regular schedule from here on out. Chapter 14 is already written, and I plan to post it in two weeks.

I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

"Mmm…. That smell."

Jo breathed in another whiff of the aroma that was filling the kitchen and tickling her nose. The mouth-watering smell of the chicken tetrazzini in the oven tempted her to close her eyes and ignore everything but it.

Her eyes found Henry. His hand left the plate where their homemade rolls rested and walked its way to the pair of onions on the island. Although he had a smile on his face, she could see a glint of something—just what, she wasn't sure—in his eyes.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she averted her gaze to the marble counter top long enough to rein in her own pleasure. She pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. "When was the last time that we cooked a meal together?"

He tilted his head at her and gave her a lopsided grin. "It seems like an eternity ago." He narrowed his eyes and then grinned. "I believe it was the first time you've insisted on nursing me."

She exchanged his grin for one of her own as the memory flashed before her. "I didn't mind." The flu which he had had five months before had thrown him for an unexpected loop, forcing him to take a couple of sick days off work. When she had swung by the shop to check on him, he had insisted that he was feeling better, but she had noticed that he was still pretty easily fatigued if he worked too much.

She tapped him on the chest before taking the grape tomatoes to the sink. "Besides, I wasn't in the mood to fish you out of the river if you tripped and fell on your knife. I don't think Abe would've let me live it down if he heard that I didn't make it there in time while he was on his trip to California with Marco and Jerry."

"Am I now finally getting the truth from you, Detective?" With a laugh in his voice, he winked at her.

Jo peered over her shoulder and playfully wrinkled her nose at him. As she washed the fruit and shook the remaining water off, she shook her head and grinned. After he had revealed his true age, she had imagined him either eating out regularly until he had found a wife or employing cooks throughout his life. The first time that they had dinner while Abe had gone on a date, she was surprised to see Henry working in the kitchen. She was even more surprised when he told her that he had taught himself how to cook while living in the Klondike in 1857. He stopped cooking regularly after Abe had mastered the skill and had chased him out of the kitchen.

Henry reached into her bowl, pulled out a couple of tomatoes, and put one in his mouth. She opened and closed her own mouth several times. He had never done that around her before.

He looked at her innocently. "What?"

She recovered her voice and smiled. "You couldn't wait until lunch, could you?"

He swallowed his bite, smirked, and took out three more. "There's nothing wrong with tasting a sample. In ancient civilizations, it was customary for wine bearers and butlers to taste the food to protect the monarch from assassination."

She grinned as she snatched the bowl away from him and headed for the other end of the island to cut the precious contents. "I'm a queen? And Abe?" According to the younger Morgan, Henry was known to sneak slices of a regular-sized tomato away from his son on a fairly frequent basis.

His face fell, and her heart broke. She put down the knife, walked back over to him, and laid her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he's okay. Knowing him, he's probably trying to sell one of your antiques, hanging out with his friends, or talking Fawn into a date."

Henry stopped slicing the onion that he had been working on and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His lower lip slightly quivering, he took a deep breath, turned to her, and gave her a small smile. "Thanks." He huffed. "I cannot help but to worry about him at times. I…."

Jo reached around and rubbed his back. After going to the bathroom the night before, she had heard Henry whimpering in his room. She entered it, and her heart broke at the sight of him shaking under his covers. Hoping to help him relax, she climbed onto the bed and rubbed his back. He eventually woke up and sleepily noticed her presence. He confessed to having a nightmare about Adam harming Abe while they were away. As they talked it over, they realized that an early morning news report about a child who had been found dead in another state had prompted the nightmare. Jo had considered asking Henry if he wanted her to stay with him, but she had opted to take the sofa for the rest of the night instead. Fortunately, for most of the day today, it seemed like her presence outside his door had helped him sleep.

She strained to hear the door open and Abe walking into the living room. Waited for him to tell them about his most recent attempt at avoiding the Frenchman or arguing with the Berkowitz brothers at the latest estate sale. Or for him to come in long enough to change before his date with Fawn Mahoney-Ames. Or for him to show them his finds at the grocery store and begin planning the night's meal. Or to try to talk his father into a game of chess….

Yet, the door remained firmly closed.

Tears climbed their way into Jo's eyes. She wiped them away and drew a deep breath. It would be so good to see him again, but they couldn't….

She sighed. "If it helps, I miss him too."

They looked at each other for a few moments, with Jo fighting back her tears to remain strong for Henry. The moment that she felt that she could talk without breaking down, she gave his shoulder one last rub. They exchanged smiles, and she returned to her tomatoes.

Henry glanced at the remaining food. "I can take the cucumbers if you would like."

"Okay." Jo leaned on the island and pointed her fork at him. "Just stay out of the tomatoes if you want them in your salad."

He schooled his features. "Yes, Detective."

At the edge of her sight, his hand slipped into the bowl and withdrew another tomato. She smiled and shook her head as he popped the stolen bite into his mouth. What was she ever going to do with him?

Resuming her task, a warmth filled her chest. She grinned, and a hum rose in her throat. She had helped him in the kitchen several times before, but, this time, it was different. Ever since their decision to abandon their investigative roles in the case two days before, she had felt something changing deep inside her. Their every movement now was almost like a carefully choreographed dance. Time passed without their knowledge whenever they talked, and they found themselves reluctantly leaving the other's side late into the night. When she had caught him leaving the shower earlier this morning, she had enjoyed staring at his damp, bare torso and his towel wrapped around his waist for the first time ever. And their trip to the American Museum of Natural History yesterday…. She had felt his whispered stories of paleontologists' feuds, transoceanic voyages, and medical discoveries—a few made by him—pulling her deeper into his past than she had ever been before.

The hum escaped and filled the air. She let the music wash over her and drown out her thoughts. For the moment, she didn't care what was changing. For the first time in years, she could definitely say that she was happy again.

Feeling his eyes on her, her cheeks began to warm. She dared to glance at him. His pleased smile chased away her nervousness. She giggled, and her next notes mixed in with it.

"You hum while cooking?"

She reluctantly stopped. "Yeah. I used to do it when…."

She startled at the faint memory that rose up at that moment. Henry was not Sean.

Jo pulled her lips together and focused on the rest of the tomatoes. Their cover was messing with her mind. There was no way that her and Henry's time was as intimate as her and Sean's. She and Henry were only….

Henry gave her a small smile and bowed his head. "When you and Sean were married."

"Yeah." She whispered.

He chuckled. "When I get the opportunity to cook, I still catch myself swaying to music in my head like I had when Abigail was still alive."

Jo stared at him. She had noticed it a couple of times when they had cooked together before…and while they had prepared the chicken tetrazzini earlier. She, however, didn't think anything of it at the time. Was it possible that…?

She willed herself to focus on the task at hand. She studied the ingredients. Once she noticed how far they were into their preparations, she headed for the refrigerator for the fresh vinaigrette.

Before she could reach for it, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist while a head joined hers. She closed her eyes and savored the warmth of Henry's cheek resting against her temple.

"What are you looking for?" His dulcet voice lulled her deeper into her reverie.

His question coupled with the cold air escaping from the open door, however, soon called to her. Hating to leave her bliss, she forced her eyes open. She sighed, pulled out the glass bottle, and swung the door shut.

Taking care to not hit Henry or to drop the container, she swiveled around to face him. "We need this."

He bowed his head and grinned. "Somehow, I almost forgot."

Just as she started to lose herself in his glowing eyes, the timer's ring overlapped with a knock on the door. Jo exchanged looks with Henry. She peered around his shoulder at the food and groaned.

She turned back to him. "Want to take the door?"

He tilted his head. "I'm a little surprised that you…."

She leaned over and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Keeping up appearances. Remember?"

He dutifully nodded and strolled toward the door. As she pulled the chicken tetrazzini out of the oven and set it on the trivet, she huffed. She was used to answering the door herself. Like she and Henry had discussed when they had gathered the rest of her belongings from her townhouse, her guarded posture while standing in the threshold would alert their stalker to her profession. They had agreed that, as much as she hated to, she would assume a more traditional role for the duration of their stay.

The door creaked open. "Yes?" Henry's American accent uncharacteristically grated on Jo's nerves. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, hi." The unfamiliar masculine voice stammered. "I'm Ryan Fugate. I live down the hall in apartment 812. I'm guessing you're my new neighbors."

Jo perked up and abandoned the rest of the salad. Was she hearing things right? She had thought that they would have to wait until Lt. Reece and Mike dropped by the complex to find him. She didn't expect that fate would bring him to their door so soon.

She joined Henry as he extended his hand. "Hank Morgan." He peered over his shoulder and smiled at her. "And this is my lovely wife Jane."

Jo waved at him. "Hi."

Henry gestured inside. "Do you want to come in?"

As Ryan crossed the threshold, she shot Henry a look. He had better not use Ryan's visit to interrogate him about Dexter's death. He had promised her that they would not interfere with Lieu and Mike's investigation, and Jo didn't want him to break it.

Ryan chuckled as he took a seat on the sofa. "Nice place. I see you took Emma Rodman's apartment."

The name needled something in Jo's mind. Her heart pounded against her chest. Why was that name familiar to her?

She shook herself out of her line of questioning, schooled her features, and smiled at their guest. "Did you know her?"

He bobbed his head several times. "She was dating Cody Sheridan for a while. Two months before they got married and moved downstairs, they were living together in this apartment."

Jo swallowed while she fought the temptation of holding her own interrogation. If she asked the first question that she had, she knew that she would not be able to stop herself. If they were to break their covers….

Something nudged her. She peered over and noticed Henry offering her a chair from their table. Lowering herself onto it, she smiled at him. Why didn't she think of that?

Ryan folded his hands, leaned toward them, and met their eyes. "I'm not one to gossip like Nick Lane in 805 does, but, um…" He lowered his gaze for a moment. "You two seem like nice people, so I think I should warn you."

"What?" Jo resisted the urge to react.

"Well…." Ryan tilted his head. "Something about Cody creeps me out. I don't know what he does for a living, but there's something off about him."

"Off?" Jo bit back her laughter at the slightly raised pitch Henry used every time that he had lied to her. "What do you mean?"

The red-haired man's eyes darted from Henry to Jo and back again. "Ever since I confronted him about his so-called drunk friend, he has been more belligerent. Or at least he is whenever he is around me."

"What happened?" The question escaped Jo. She quietly cursed herself. She wished that the words never left her mouth.

Ryan huffed. "About nine years ago, I was returning from the gym when I spotted Cody carrying a man away from here. Cody suddenly became nervous when I asked him who it was. He insisted that he was a drunk friend whom he was helping to get home."

He locked eyes with them. "I knew Cody was lying. The guy he had his arm wrapped around came to the gym downstairs about half an hour before, identified himself as a homicide detective, and asked me where he could find Cody. I told him that he could find Cody here. The cop thanked me and left."

He swallowed. "The cop who Cody left with wasn't breathing. If I didn't know any better, I would say that the man was dead."

Jo and Henry exchanged looks. This had to be their most solid lead yet.

Henry mirrored Ryan's posture. "What happened next?"

Ryan glanced down at the coffee table separating them. "Cody insisted that I let him pass by before he dropped the man. I did, but my curiosity wouldn't leave me alone when I went to work. Later that evening, I asked Cody about it when we both returned home. He snapped at me, telling me that I should keep my nose out of his business. Since then, things haven't been well between us. Sometimes, I have to wonder if he had something to do with what happened here."

He scoffed and looked around the room. "I pass by this door every day, but I haven't thought of that for ages."

He smiled at them. "Anyways, I shouldn't let a bad memory ruin this visit. I've been wanting to come by here and introduce myself since you moved in. I saw the two of you staring into each other's eyes as you entered the apartment for the first time. Somehow, I had the feeling that you would be good neighbors."

The memory of Henry carrying her over the threshold drowned out Jo's questions. The room grew much warmer. For a moment, she wondered if she had turned the oven off.

Ryan checked his watch and pushed himself off the sofa. "I have to be going. I still need to grab a bite to eat before I return to work." He sniffed the air. "Smells like I'm interrupting yours."

"We don't mind." Henry rose and extended his hand. "It was nice meeting you."

Ryan took Henry's hand and then Jo's. "It was nice meeting you too."

After Henry escorted Ryan out, his eyes found Jo. "Why does the name Cody Sheridan sound familiar to me?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." The name, like Emma's, pricked something in her mind. "But it sounds like Dexter was definitely here before he died."

She averted her eyes to the laundry room. The floor looked like it had been redone, but she had thought nothing of it when she had noticed the incongruity between its hardwood floor's grain and the rest of the apartment's. Suppose….

She bit her lower lip. She didn't want to, but she needed to keep her suspicion from Henry. The moment that he would find out, he would spirit them away to someplace where no one, not even Abe, would find them. And she certainly didn't want that to happen just yet. Besides, as far as she knew, a water leak could have forced maintenance to replace the flooring before another tenant took the apartment.

"We need to contact Lt. Reece about this." Henry huffed. "I thought that our involvement in the case was over now."

Jo strolled over to him, took his hand, and locked eyes with him. "I thought so too." She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. "I thought so too."

Before she could say another word, the aroma of their meal entered her nostrils. She gave him a small smile. Maybe their call would be the last time that they would think of the case. Maybe they could finally put it behind them and enjoy their time together.

 **#####**

Lt. Reece groaned as she tossed the file containing Dexter's death certificate back into the box. It seemed like they were taking two steps forward and three steps back with every lead that they had uncovered. Jo and Henry's call—complete with their assurances that they hadn't sought out Ryan Fugate—had confirmed that Dexter was at The Viele before his death, but they still couldn't prove that he was killed there. Not to mention, she had to keep her and Mike's discovery of Captain Sheridan's relationship with Emma Rodman from Henry and Jo to keep them from worrying about their safety. Knowing Henry, he would have Jo on the first flight to Paris and use the destination to disappear to parts unknown.

She lifted her head and stared out into the bullpen toward Jo's desk. She huffed. Maybe she was making a mistake in not telling them what she suspected. As she, Mike, and Abe had discussed their options the other night, she could finally see why Henry and Jo had initially resisted the idea of their flight to the Upper West Side and why Mike had felt that Henry would feel the need to break up with Jo to hide her. She was asking the pair to give up the lives they knew. Although Henry had two hundred years of experience in running, Lt. Reece now saw that he would do or give anything to keep his life in New York. Meanwhile, Jo was starting over, with no idea of how her life would turn out. She couldn't blame either for being afraid of how this would affect their future.

A shadow passed by Jo's desk. Lt. Reece cocked her head and schooled her features as Adam strolled toward her office without a care in the world. He wouldn't make himself known unless he wanted something. She busied herself at her desk and hoped that he wouldn't pick up on her suspicions.

A moment later, the other immortal knocked on the door and appeared in her threshold. She lifted her head and looked at him as innocently as she could. "Officer De los Rios, it's a surprise to see you again. What brings you here?"

Adam stepped inside and closed the door. Lt. Reece braced herself. She wasn't sure whether he had something planned or if she would need to slug him.

He reached back and rubbed his head. "The other day, your question as to whether I had seen or heard anything suspicious jogged something in my mind."

She crossed her arms and leaned forward. "What?"

He stepped over to her and eased himself into the chair that Henry had taken several times before. "Six days ago, a superior came by the department and requested the record of Dexter's death." He nodded to the box beside her. "The same one that you have." His steely eyes met hers. "I had thought nothing of the unusual request at the time. I, however, pulled the evidence box out of its place on the shelf and give it to him."

He bowed his head. "I hope that you will forgive me, but I couldn't supervise it as my superior called me away to retrieve another box of evidence. As far as I know, the contents of the box are still there."

"Do you remember who asked for it?"

He shook his head. "I'm sure that he told me his name, but I didn't hear it. I was taken aback by his sudden appearance and his request. Superiors usually don't visit the records department unless they have a reason. I had encountered the other superiors in the hallways while on my way to work."

Lt. Reece eyed the other immortal. As much as she hated to do so, she definitely had to rule him out as a suspect…for the time being. She made a note to ask Tanya about Adam's claim after he left.

"Why are you telling me this?"

He leaned forward and smiled, prompting a chill to run down her spine. "Rumors. Detective Martinez and Dr. Morgan disappeared the day before your request for Detective Chapman's files. Almost everyone assumes that they have taken their vacations. I can't say I blame them. Certain things can happen when one combines romance and an isolated location."

Lt. Reece scanned his eyes. She hated what he was implying.

"You, however, know exactly where they are. If I were you, I would take Dr. Morgan's fragile memory into consideration. With his confusion, he likely does not remember the case. We don't need him being driven to the depths of despair if something were to happen to Detective Martinez…or vice versa."

Lt. Reece drew herself as straight as she could. "Would you please leave before I call your superior?"

"As you wish."

He quietly rose from his chair and strolled to the door. The moment it closed behind him, tears sprang to Lt. Reece's eyes. Wiping them out, she hoped that she hadn't set Adam on Henry and Jo's trail or did something to ruin their relationship.

"… _Dr. Morgan's fragile memory…."_

She fought back her laughter but failed. Their plan was working too well. She wanted to be a fly on the wall when Adam finally realized that Henry had his memory back. That confrontation was going to be good.

She looked at Jo's desk again, and her heart sank. She picked up the phone to call Tanya and check out Adam's claim. As the young woman confirmed everything that the other immortal had stated, Lt. Reece wished that they would have a breakthrough in the case soon. Maybe they could give Henry and Jo a fighting chance to counter whatever Adam had planned for them.

And maybe they could be closer to giving the couple their former lives back.

 **#####**

Lucas finished the last stitch and studied the corpse of Trevor Allen. He huffed. It should have felt good to have learned what they had found. Why did he feel like he was going to be sick?

"Something must be in this building's water."

Lucas froze at Dr. Hawthorne's voice and swallowed. "What do you mean?" He quietly hoped that Dr. Hawthorne wasn't suspecting something about Henry. Lucas had no idea what everyone else had told her, but he couldn't help but to wonder if they had mentioned Henry's skinny dipping to her. Or his odd-sounding comments about life in the past. Or his _joie de mort_ that was working in tandem with an apparently newfound _joie de vie_. Or…

She grinned at him. "Somehow, here, the assistant MEs prove to be better than the MEs themselves. I hadn't seen that in my old job in New Jersey."

Willing himself to shut up about Henry's involvement in the original Jack the Ripper case, Lucas opened and closed his mouth. There was no way he was that good. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Hawthorne leveled her gaze at him. "Even as assistants, Drs. Morgan and Newell were far better than Dr. Washington. Based on their reported findings and from what I've been hearing, I don't see how Dr. Washington is still holding a job." Her lips curved up. "From what I've seen by working with you, you're on their level."

Lucas stammered. "Hen—, I mean, Dr. Morgan is an excellent teacher." He always wished for a way to tell Henry how grateful he was for the immortal to take him under his wing and teach him everything that he knew. Because of him….

"Are you about done?"

Lucas jerked himself out of his thoughts. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

She placed a hand on the autopsy table. "I was wondering if you would like to accompany me upstairs to deliver our findings to Lt. Reece and Detective Hanson. After all, you had discovered most of our leads. I thought that you would like to be the one to tell them."

He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. Before he could say anything, their "patient" caught his eye. He groaned internally. "I need to return Trevor to the cooler first."

He headed toward the coolers to fetch a gurney. As he rolled the closest one to the table and loaded Trevor's body onto it, Lucas groaned. Their findings were consistent with what Henry and Jeff had found years ago. He understood why Dr. Washington never followed up on Jeff's lead. But Dr. Ross? From everything that Lucas had heard since his first day at the OCME, the man was a legend, with an uncanny sense of death that rivaled Henry's. There was no way that he could have dismissed Henry's findings like that.

Unless….

Could the doctor….?

Lucas pushed the thought out of his mind as he pushed Trevor against the coolers, opened his, and put the corpse into it. That was as likely as Henry actually going through with his plan to kill Adam years ago. Lucas could not imagine the former ME doing something that despicable without Henry finding out about it and informing the police. Or carrying out his own investigation and then going to the police with his findings.

Footsteps echoed in the room. Hoping that Lt. Reece sensed they were nearing the end of their two autopsies—although that would be both totally creepy and totally cool if she could—he looked up and sped to the threshold. His heart slightly sank at the sight of Jeff coming toward them.

Jeff stopped at the autopsy table, stared at it for a few seconds, and sighed. "I thought that I would never see him again." He glanced up at him. "I saw Carl wheel Trevor toward the coolers and tell Tori who it was when he was brought in yesterday."

Dr. Hawthorne eased her way around the autopsy table, leaned against it, and crossed her arms. "I am very impressed."

Jeff reached around his head. "How so?"

She smiled at him in a way that reminded Lucas of the times Henry would at him, Jo, or Mike when they catch something that he had seen. "How you spotted the aortic dissection back in 2009 and your confrontation with Dr. Washington a few days ago. It, um, it's…"

They stared at each other. Resisting the urge to sigh, Lucas looked everywhere but at them. How he almost always wound up as a third wheel, he would never know.

"Would you like to join me for a drink later this evening?"

Lucas shook himself out of his thoughts. He blinked in time to see Jeff blush slightly.

Dr. Hawthorne took a step closer to Jeff. "Where do you want to go?"

"How about McSorley's after work?"

She placed her hand on her hip. "I'm hearing everyone rave about it, but I haven't been there yet." She scoffed and smiled. "Sure. I would love to go."

Jeff then turned to Lucas. "Would you and Tori like to join us?"

His heart racing, Lucas willed himself to calm down. "Isn't Tori assigned to another ME?" He inwardly hoped that she hadn't been assigned to Dr. Washington again. The last time that she had, she had nearly quit the OCME altogether.

Jeff grinned. "She's my assistant again. I wouldn't let a certain surly ME take her away this time. Once was enough."

Lucas threw up his hands. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to be a third wheel for you and Dr. Hawthorne. Besides, I want to take Tori out to dinner with the winnings that I forced Dr. Washington to turn over."

Jeff narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in a way that made Lucas wish for Henry's return. Lucas swallowed. Was Jeff thinking that he was being set up? The last time Lucas had been set up himself, it had ended so poorly that Henry had invited him over to the shop for some of Abe's world-class cooking and some of the good stuff. Even though that helped to ease the pain of the disastrous night, Lucas had no intention of putting someone through a similar fate.

Jeff then found Dr. Hawthorne again. "When do you get off work?"

She glanced at the clock over the door leading to the coolers. "About seven. And you?"

While they arranged their date, Lucas peeked at the door. He should go and find Tori and ask her the next evening that she had free. If she had nothing planned for tonight or the weekend….

He started for the door when he felt a pair of eyes drilling into his head. He paused mid-step and turned toward Dr. Hawthorne. He could feel the heat raising in his cheeks. Man, he hadn't felt like this since the first time that he and Henry had to explain why Henry was in the East River—again—during a case.

Dr. Hawthorne cocked her head and smiled. "Are you trying to get a head start on me?" She started for her office. "You'll need my report."

He inwardly kicked himself. _Right. The report._

The moment the other ME disappeared, Lucas stood on tiptoes and peered out the autopsy room's door toward the hallway. He hoped that Mike and Lt. Reece wouldn't be too mad at Henry and Dr. Ross for not following up on their lead. For all he knew, something—or someone—would have had to stop them from ever reporting their findings to Lt. Reece's predecessor, Lt. Roarke.

Lucas' eyes widened. What if Lt. Roarke had forced Jo or the OCME component of the team back then to drop the investigation? It wouldn't be the first time that she did. The moment that he had seen Jo walk into the autopsy room for the first time, he knew that Lt. Roarke had sent her there to see if their findings would conform to the official police theory.

Dr. Hawthorne soon joined him. As they passed through the door, Lucas' excitement rose. He didn't know how, but he felt that he had just cracked the investigation wide open. He hoped that it would lead to them finally being able to solve the two cases, bring Dexter's killer to justice, and bring Henry and Jo home.

 **#####**

 **Author's Note:** One hint: We are nowhere near done with this case. What happens next, we'll see. ;)

Henry snacking on tomatoes while someone's cooking is from "Look Before You Leap". I've always thought that it is a cute piece of characterization for him. I think I've taken Jo's hum from a couple of fellow fan fic writer. I hope you don't mind.

I do have a backstory for Jo enjoying the view Henry presents her. In it, Jo definitely notices his body every time he's shirtless or naked. She, however, doesn't think anything of it since she is usually on a mission (e.g., comforting him after she and Mike rescue him in "The Ecstasy of Agony", fishing him out of the East River, wanting to enjoy a swim, etc.) This time, though, oh, yeah.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note** : Fun fact: In the program where I write my rough drafts for my stories, the scene where Adam walks into Lt. Reece's office is entitled "Adam Tempting Fate". He certainly was when I was writing it.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

Henry and Jo laughed as the warm air of their apartment greeted them. Once the door was closed, he threw his head back onto it and happily panted. The last time that they had attempted to dodge the rain, they had reached her car before they got wet. This time, they had found themselves in it as they exited the museum. They had dashed back to the apartment with his coat over her head, but the rain's slant had made him wish that he had remembered his umbrella.

His gaze followed Jo as she wove her way through the living room and toward her bedroom. The past four days had been a whirlwind, with visits to the museums in Lower Manhattan, picnic lunches in Central Park, intimate dinners in their dining area, and equally intimate discussions on the sofa. Their activities infused him with so much life that he felt that he was ready to burst from it.

His lips parted as she disappeared behind her door. He hadn't felt this young in centuries. He didn't know what it was about her, but, ever since he had first laid eyes on her, the crust of the years fell off of him every time they were together. Over the past few days, however, he felt as though he was starting a second adolescence altogether.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth. He hated for the day to end. The constant rain had forced them to change their plans from a day-long walk through Central Park and a picnic lunch with food from a nearby grocer to a return visit to the nearby natural history museum and lunch at a restaurant near the south end of the park. He had hoped that they could do something outside this evening, but, judging from the appearance of the sky, it wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Her door opened, revealing her figure. Her well-fitted white dress, denim jacket, and knee-high boots took his breath away. He gaped at her as she strolled through the room. He had always been taken aback by her natural beauty. Tonight, though, was different. Tonight, he was watching the movements of someone divine.

Jo's smile brought him back to earth. He took a deep breath to stir his thoughts. "You didn't need to change on my behalf."

Her smile grew into a grin. "I wanted to." She moved closer to him, and his heart pounded itself against his scar so hard that he believed it could break apart the knotted tissue and restore it to its original condition. "I didn't want to spend the rest of the night in wet clothes."

At that moment, he became aware of the way his own clothes clung to his skin. He quickly excused himself, raced for his room, removed the wet garments, and snatched some dry ones out of his closet and drawers. As he pulled a dry polo shirt over his head, he rolled through the events the city had planned. The night was still salvageable. They had several options that he had rashly brushed aside earlier. One would be perfect for their circumstances.

He found his socks and slipped them over his feet. "Do you want to do something tonight?"

"Yeah." Her answer almost stunned his thoughts into silence. "What are you thinking about?"

He put on his sneakers, tucked his belongings into his jeans pockets, and sprang to the door. Once he opened it, he shoved his trembling hands deep into his pockets and bowed his head. "How would you like to go to the movies tonight?"

Her mouth dropped open. "What? I didn't think that you were a movie person."

He chuckled. "What constitutes as a movie today doesn't appeal to me." He stepped toward her. "Abe and Fawn found a film festival featuring movies from the 1940s until the early 1960s. Since you enjoy films from that era, I was wondering if it were something that you would like to do."

Her eyes darted to the side. A couple of quiet moments later, she grinned at him. "I would love to. Where's it at?"

He stopped in front of her. "It's on 57th. I believe that it starts at 7." He laughed. "This time, I'll remember the umbrella." He certainly didn't want a drop of rain to ruin the vision of beauty before him.

He pulled out his watch, checked the time, and pulled his lips together. "I would like to take you out to dinner beforehand, but we don't have much time."

Jo reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. "I'll take care of it. You set the table."

His eyes searched her, and her gaze erased all his thoughts. To honor her request, he reluctantly pulled himself from her and stepped toward the kitchen. He wished that he could stay by her side, but he wanted to comply with her desires.

As Henry gathered the utensils and the napkins, her full orders came back to him. He reviewed the contents of the refrigerator. Every recipe that incorporated the ingredients they had required time to cook. Time which they did not have.

He turned to her. "What are we having?"

He swallowed as she pulled a couple of frozen chicken Alfredo dinners from the freezer. He loved her, but there was no way that she was going to force him to eat one of those.

Blowing out of her filled cheeks, she pointed her finger at him in emphasis. "You promised that you will try one."

He heaved a sigh. "I remember that."

He stared that the pair of meals as she opened the boxes. He gulped. He might as well get her attempt at convincing him to try microwaveable food again over with. The sooner, the better. At least she knew his strong stance against the appliance came from a rather disastrous attempt at preparing one of Abigail's lasagnas in one back in the 1970s. If he were to develop a severe case of food poisoning due to undercooked food—as he had then—maybe Jo would accept why he would never eat another frozen meal for as long as he lived.

Reminding himself of the broken promise of those early appliances, he set off for the table and arranged the silverware. He then found their wine and two glasses. As the glasses in his hand tinkled against each other, he smiled. Perhaps he could focus on the rest of the date to keep his mind off the taste of the food. If he could….

The timer sounded. A couple of seconds later, Jo reappeared in the threshold, balancing the two trays in her hands. He held out his hands and took them over to the table. He surveyed one. The food didn't look that bad. Perhaps he was wrong about it.

He set them down, stepped over to Jo's side, and pulled out her chair. While she settled into the seat, his eyes traced her delicate features. He gaped at her again. He had never seen her look as radiant as he did now.

Her smile invited him to sit down. He found his place and lowered himself into it.

As he took the utensils and one of the boxes and pulled them to himself, she pointed her fork at him. "You know, microwaves have come a long way since you and Abigail tried one. They cook food more evenly now."

"I'm still not too sure about that." The memory of the lasagna's burnt edges, uncooked center, and his and Abigail's search for a properly cooked portion popped up in his mind every time someone, especially Abe, mentioned using one.

Jo trained her gaze onto him. "You won't know until you try one."

He sat in silence for a few moments and sucked in some air. "If anything should happen to me within the next couple of days, at least you know where to find me."

"Shut up and eat."

The cheesy aroma drew him in. He examined the noodles and chicken on his fork. They looked slightly better than the ones from the hospital. He took a bite, chewing and nodding as he tried it.

She raised her eyebrows and took a sip of wine. "So?"

He pointed at the box with his fork. "This isn't an authentic chicken Alfredo. The sauce should have a creamy texture, and the chicken shouldn't be diced. The fettuccine noodles are okay. I prefer to have them a little more tender, but they're edible…."

He ate another bite. "Still, it's better than some recipes that I had tried before." Notably far more superior than the hospital's. He wasn't sure how he had been able to stomach that meal.

Henry smiled as he found another strand to eat. If Jo kept this up, she might be able to bring him fully into the 21st century after all.

He reached over for some wine. After his sip, his eyes roamed her face. "That's all there is to it? Just cook and serve?"

She nodded. "The directions are on the back or side of the box. Sometimes, you need to adjust the time, but it's only by a few seconds."

Henry picked up his tray and scrutinized it. "When did they start packaging frozen meals in plastic trays? The meals that Abe had eaten as a child when he had visited Lyle's apartment had come in trays similar to the ones used on airplanes." He set it down on the table. "Every time that he came home, he would enthusiastically praise the merits of his friend's meals. Abigail and I worried that—."

Jo reached over the table, wound her arm around the wine bottle, and laid a finger on his lips. The movement stunned him into adoring silence.

She locked eyes with him. "If I reheat your meal, it will taste as nasty as Abe's hangover cure. Trust me on this."

As he blinked his eyes, she slid back into her seat and took another bite of her noodles. He gave her one of his lop-sided grins. "Maybe later?"

She smiled. "Definitely later."

 _Later_.

Henry took another bite and checked the time again. Now he could see why she had selected this dinner…and why everyone else raved about the appliance. He had wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, but he had hated the thought of being late for the movies due to their orders in a restaurant. Now, Jo and the marvels of modern technology provided them with more time than he had thought.

He furtively peered from under his eyelashes as he continued his meal. He couldn't get enough of the beauty that was ravishing his heart even more with each passing second. He wished that he could spend all the time in the world with her. Or as much as time as fate would allot to them.

* * *

Henry's eyes surveyed the theater's interior as they walked through the glass doors. He closed his umbrella, shook out the water, and smiled. He remembered when movie theaters had resembled Avery Fisher Hall, opera houses, or a traditional theater. This modern one seemed to have brought the past back to life.

Voices rose and fell around him. He shook his head in amazement as he faced their sources. The spring rain appeared to have driven everyone indoors, likely to the newer productions. A few older-looking couples were in the crowd, looking eager to begin their evening.

A buttery aroma wafted through the lobby. Henry sniffed and closed his eyes. With the mouthwatering smell, he could see the newsreels and serials preceding the main feature. Listen to Abe's and Abigail's laughter at the animated shorts. Watch the actors and actresses from the bygone era disappear into their roles and create a believable series of events before his eyes. Feel the warmth and peace inside of him as he—and, later, his family—departed from his seat to return home.

"Henry?"

The urgent whisper dissolved the past around him. He blinked and glanced over his shoulder in time to see Jo pulled away from him, her head remaining cocked. She nodded at the moving line. His cheeks flushed at the thought of keeping everyone behind them waiting.

"Where were you?"

Remembering his accent and his cover, he smiled at their shorthand which granted them the freedom to talk discreetly about his past. "During the Great Depression, going to the movies was one of life's simple luxuries. You could buy a bag of popcorn from a street vendor in front of a theater for five cents, pay five more cents to see the film, and forget about your troubles for a couple of hours. Later, it became an enjoyable family activity with weekend matinees that appealed to children."

"It's been a while since you've done this." She smiled.

Her hand warmed his back, taking his tension with it. "A very long while."

Hoping to see what was being showed, he looked at the sign and rubbed his tongue against his cheek. Jo had once mentioned that she disliked Clark Gable's films. At the same time, he would rather not have memories of Abigail drifting in and out of his consciousness as he tried to enjoy the evening with Jo. If one of Clark Gable's movies was featured, perhaps he and Jo could return to the apartment and fill out another _Mad Libs_ book that they had purchased from the bookstore. If she really wanted to watch a movie, he could squelch his natural tendencies once again and suggest that they should find one on TV.

His eyes locked onto the sign near the ticket counter. Someone jostled him as they passed, but he paid the person no attention. His mouth opened a little wider with each breath that he took.

The night's featured presentation was a Victor Moore film.

He smiled at her. "We're in luck. No Clark Gable films tonight."

One figure stood out in the line leading to the ticket counter and sent a cold chill down his spine. He swallowed. How were they going to handle this?

He wrapped his arm around Jo's shoulders and nudged her away from the line. "Come on."

Her hand flew up to his and wrapped around it. "What's going on?"

The worry in her voice clenched his heart. He hated it. She had been through so much pain and suffering in her short time on Earth. She didn't deserve the hiding and lying that was necessary to preserve her life.

Once at the wall, he unwrapped his arm, moved in front of her, and rested his hand at her eye-level. He hoped that the positioning of his body would shield her from those who sought her life. He glanced over his shoulder and observed the crowd. Once assured that no one was paying attention to them, he turned back to her.

His worries swirled in his head, taking his breath away. He took a deep breath to keep himself from becoming weak. He leaned forward. His eyes roamed her face.

"Abe and Fawn are here."

She narrowed her eyes. "So? Abe knows your accent."

Her own gaze traced his facial features. She leaned her head back, and she mouthed "oh".

Henry nodded his confirmation. Fawn knew nothing about it. If she were to hear him use it, she would immediately notice and would inquire about the need for it.

He sighed. He wanted to spend the evening with Jo, not hide from his own son and his girlfriend. Perhaps it was best if they left. The night was still young, and they could find something else to do.

He turned away from Jo. Just as he charted a course out of the building, his eyes traveled to the young couple laughing at a private joke and Fawn leaning against Abe. In an instant, they transformed into children before him.

An urge to nurture his son sprang up in him. Before he could act on it, the voices around him surged. He blinked and shook his head. He was here with Jo, and she would be displeased if he were to spend his time focusing on the other couple.

He turned back to her and gave her a lopsided grin. Desperate for something to say, he searched his mind for the memory of the last time that he had been to the movies. Once he found it, he dropped his arm.

"Would you like some popcorn?"

* * *

Henry kept one eye on the couple while he led Jo into the theater. In times past, he had made it a point to never meet any of Abe's potential mates. The cautionary measure had not sat well with his son, but Abe had consented to it anyway. Once they had discovered that Fawn knew of and accepted his condition—with his true age and the nature of Abigail's death being her only surprises—it was natural for him to welcome her into their lives with open arms.

Henry smiled as Jo directed him into a row. The lone time that Abigail had been pregnant, shortly after their honeymoon aboard the Orient Express, he had periodically permitted himself to dream of raising a daughter as well as Abe. He had always assumed that becoming the father of a girl would never be possible, but fate was now providing him with a second opportunity in ways that he had never dreamed.

Abe took Fawn's popcorn and soda, allowing her to sit down, and arranged them in his arms. Once again, they morphed into twelve-year-old children who had shared their first kiss over milkshakes. Children for whom life and love held a fragile innocence that needed tending to so that they could blossom.

"Hank?"

Behind him, ice cubes jostled against each other in the paper cup that contained Jo's soda. Henry blinked as the chill radiating from the drink flowed into his back.

Chuckling, he craned his neck to her. "I should be paying more attention to what I'm doing, huh?"

He shook his head. He was easily distracted this evening. He needed to reign in his emotions before he erred in either matters of safety or of the heart.

Feeling more awake, he redirected his focus onto the row that Jo had pointed out. From personal experience, it was the perfect distance from the screen and the sound booth. It was high enough so that he could see over whoever would block his view of the film. In addition, it was close enough to the exits in case he were to ease out for more refreshments.

Henry took Jo's snacks. As he juggled the four containers and their umbrella, his hands shook. Hoping to maintain his grip on them, he tightened his fingers around them and willed himself to calm down.

Once Jo was settled, he handed her her box and cup and took the seat next to her. His eyes soaked her in as her glow chased away the dim light. While they had left the subway station close to their apartment, she had stated that she had never been to a movie theater before as she hadn't had the finances as a child or the time as an adult. Yet, somehow, she had searched the deep recesses of his memory and had discovered his usual spot.

Her radiance drew him closer to her, giving off a comforting warmth that warded off the air-conditioned room's chill. If it were not for his snack and his bottled water, he would reach over and pull her as close to him as possible.

Her brown eyes roamed his. She grinned. "What?"

"I—." His voice rose unexpectedly. He cleared his throat. "I was admiring your beauty."

His cheeks warmed as he recognized the low rumble that had replaced his normal pitch. It wasn't untrue. Jo's exquisite features, chiseled and shaped by a master craftsman, were the epitome of beauty. All he, a mere mortal, could do was to helplessly allow himself to be drawn in by their allure.

A couple of voices filtered into the mostly empty theater and gently shook his mind. To maintain a sense of propriety, he languidly and reluctantly averted his attention to the screen.

Before he finished, his regard landed on his son and his girlfriend. Abe slid an arm around Fawn's neck, his hand dangling over her chest.

The motion shocked Henry as though he had suddenly found himself in the East River. He cursed himself. In indulging his delight in Jo, he had permitted himself to neglect his parental duties.

He rubbed his face. How did Abigail manage to swiftly suppress her desire for intimacy during Abe's childhood? It was one of the few things about her that had driven him mad, especially when Abe was an infant. Now, he had found himself in desperate need of the same ability.

His popcorn and Jo forgotten, he eyed the young man. In another time, Abe's behavior would have been deemed necessary reporting in _The Gentleman's Magazine_. He had lost track of the number of times his parents had discovered his Uncle Dennis' most recent dalliances within its pages.

"How could this happen?"

One idea pushed and shoved against the wall in his mind and cried out on the other side. He quickly silenced it. Abe and Fawn were children, and it was up to him to ensure that their date would occur without Abe giving into impunity.

"Huh?" Jo's voice crept into his ears.

"A man is to treat a woman with respect." His British lilt threatened to break through the surface and reveal itself. "She is, in every way, his superior. She is a creator. A nurturer. A skilled manager of both the workplace and the hearth. She—."

"Hank?"

The unfamiliar name on Jo's tongue beckoned unto him. He kept his gaze trained on the other couple, waiting for Abe's next impertinent move.

"She is to be treated as though she were a queen. A man should not conduct himself as though he were—."

"Hank?"

He thrust his hand toward them. "I raised him better than that!"

"Henry!" Jo hissed in his ear.

The familiar name brought him back to his senses as Abe and Fawn looked at each other. Henry froze and gulped. He hoped that they would not twist around and see him and Jo.

The young couple shifted their attention back to their previous conversation. Henry lowered his gaze. How foolish he was to raise his voice like that. It was unbecoming of a parent. Especially one his age.

"You're spying on your own kid," Jo hissed again. She then bent away from him and widened, closed, and narrowed her eyes. "I'm spying on my potential step-son and his girlfriend."

Henry's own eyes widened, and his grip on his small container of popcorn loosened. Jo had begun to show her care for Abe when they had tracked him through the New York subway system years ago, and she had recently demonstrated that she had adopted him as her own. This was the first time that he had heard her admit it out loud.

Jo took Henry's hand and pulled it to her. Leaning over, she pressed her shoulder against his. "Abe and Fawn are adults, and they've been married before. They know what they are doing."

Her advice slit a hole in his memory. He turned back to the couple, once again looking like adults. He sighed. Seventy-three years had passed since he had first laid eyes on Abe in Abigail's arms. And sixty-one years had come and gone since Abe and Fawn's first kiss. Jo was right. The couple before them were perfectly capable of controlling their passions without any interference from him.

Jo ran her hand over his nape, silencing his thoughts. "Besides, you are supposed to be out on a date with me."

Her hand slid up to the back of his head. Her fingers melted his focus on his son and his potential daughter-in-law. In its place, a warmth and a wholeness permeated his being. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the relaxing rhythm of each of her finger's gentle strokes.

A darkness fell over his eyelids, and a blast of music disrupted his quiescence, forcing him to reluctantly open his eyes. As Jo withdrew her hand, the room grew colder. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him as the trailers for the next feature film began.

* * *

Jo pushed the apartment door open, Henry's hand resting gently on her back. She giggled as the movie replayed in her mind. "I don't think that I had laughed that hard before."

They slipped into the room, and Henry pushed the door shut. "Neither did I."

One storyline rolled past her, and its familiarity sank her heart. "I hope that we'll never be like Hector and Katie." She and Mike knew almost all of each other's stories, and, until four years ago, they had occasionally scrambled to come up with things to talk about. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if she and Henry were to fall silent.

"I imagine that we'll always be able to find a topic of conversation, even if it's our thoughts about the weather."

Her eyes searched his face for reassurance that she won't be the one who would run out of stories for him. The left side of his mouth lifted up. Her chest expanded as though he had breathed into her mouth while she was regaining consciousness.

She blew out her air. "Will we?" She almost could not hear her soft, low voice as his smile left her incapable of thinking.

Each speck in his eyes glowed. She wanted to reach out, lay her hand on the back of his head, and pull it closer to her for a better look.

Henry quickly averted his gaze, creating an emptiness in her heart. "I didn't mean to almost ruin our evening because of my paternal instincts."

Jo reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. "You're adorable when you're acting like a father."

She grinned at him. It wasn't untrue, yet, his backseat parenting tonight had been a bit annoying at first. As he talked, though, she heard his American accent slipping more and more. The moment he implied that he had failed to raise Abe properly, his British accent had been almost completely audible to her and likely to everyone around them. The only way to remind him of his cover had been to get his attention off of the other couple.

His eyes searched hers. "Admittedly, I was a little nervous about asking you out to a movie when I was considering our first date. I wasn't sure if you would enjoy a rather simplistic outing. I had promised you that I would do something more romantic, but—."

She laid a finger on his lips. "I did enjoy myself tonight."

"But…"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I don't need dinners at fancy restaurants and flowers to feel like a man is romancing me." Isaac Monroe and her former boyfriends had tried that before years ago. The time that she and Henry had spent on the balcony when they had first moved into their apartment and their recent stolen moment at the Delacourt Theater were more romantic than any of her previous dates combined.

"It doesn't?" Henry heaved a sigh of what sounded like relief.

Her grin widened. "It doesn't."

Jo took in her view of him. Her worries about the world always drained away every time that he was close to her. Over the past four days, it was easy to forget about them entirely and enjoy her time with him. This week, she was just Jo.

Her throat tightening, she swallowed in an attempt to regain her composure. The last man who had made her feel this way was Sean…

…and she married him.

Her surging emotions about Henry almost ready to overtake her, she broke her gaze and stepped toward the sofa. Their time with Abe and Fawn in the emptying auditorium after the movie rolled in front of her like their film.

"It was nice to have a little taste of home."

She caught both her words and herself as she stumbled over the table. It was the first time that she had called her frequent visits to the shop "home".

She blinked and shook her head. How did that happen? And why did she see Abe as her step-son while she tried to catch Henry's attention earlier? She cared for the younger Morgan quite a bit, but…

"Indeed, it was." Henry's lilt coaxed her out of her thoughts. He chuckled. "Fawn was pleasantly surprised to hear my other accent."

The smile that Jo felt failed to reach her lips. The four of them had tried to keep their voices down as Abe and the two of them had explained their predicament to Fawn. Jo hoped that no one in the booth or in the auditorium had overheard them.

She swallowed. Or followed them home. Adam wouldn't resist that type of temptation for a moment.

To get her mind off the psychopathic immortal, she glanced over at the pictures surrounding the TV. One was missing.

She cocked her head as she stepped closer to the entertainment center. Her jaw fell open. Their photo of their "time" in Hawaii laid face down on the floor.

"Hank?" She swallowed back her fear.

Henry tilted his head. Jo nodded to the floor. He took one look and threw his head back in recognition of her changed tone.

She creeped to the kitchen's threshold. As she reached behind her, she felt air instead of her gun. She inwardly cursed herself. She should have remembered that she had left it at home. And that she was wearing a dress.

She motioned for him to stay behind her. With each step, she could hear his pocket watch counting off the seconds. She swallowed. Hopefully, they weren't marking the last moments of her life and of his life in New York.

They checked each room, looking in every space that was large enough to hold a body and looking for any other signs of a disturbance. When they had returned to the living room, she crossed her arms and blew out some air.

Her eyes met Henry's. "I don't like the looks of this."

Henry's eyebrows furrowed. "It doesn't appear that anything else was out of place. That doesn't mean that someone could have gone through our belongings and replaced them exactly the way they were."

She bit her lower lip. "Who could have gotten into the apartment?"

Henry sighed. "A maintenance worker or the manager could have entered without our knowledge. Other than that…"

Fear gripped her as several more possibilities popped in her head. Jo averted her gaze as Henry's mouth fell open. She ran her hand through her hair. She didn't expect this.

She turned back to him. "I'm not sure if this is serious enough for us to call Lieu and Mike. We don't have enough evidence to conclusively state that the apartment had been broken into."

Henry shoved his hands into his pockets and bowed his head. "I concur."

Her heart pounded in her chest. She buried her hands under her armpits to hide their shaking. This was their home—for the time being—and she hated that the sanctity of it had been violated.

An arm draped itself around her. A moment later, he pulled her toward his chest and slipped his arms around her. She grabbed onto him and refused to let go until she felt safe.

Once Henry's embrace had completely soothed Jo's nerves, she wiped the few tears threatening to spill over as he released her. She was wide awake. There was no way that she could go to bed now.

She looked at Henry. He looked wide awake as well. He lingered near her, almost as if he were afraid that she would need his embrace again.

She licked her bottom lip. "Are you up for another movie? We can catch one on TV."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** The information about popcorn is from Natasha Geiling's "Ask Smithsonian" article "Why Do We Eat Popcorn at the Movies?" and Mo Rocca's CBS News article "Popcorn, the snack that saved the movies". The movie is "We're Not Married!" (I'm serious; that's the title!) I discovered it while looking for a romantic comedy from the 1950s, and I thought that it would be perfect for the story.

And, yes, the date was very fun to write. I've read several stories about Henry's previous experience with microwaves, and they all mention him leaving metal in the appliance and setting the house or apartment on fire. In my head canon for the show, my mind takes the tack that you've read above…at times, complete with another swim in the East River courtesy of food poisoning. I think I spot a little recognition of Clark Gable's name when Abigail mentions him to Henry in "The Man in the Killer Suit". I used that as a springboard for Henry going to the movies in the past. Henry's use of "mortal" to describe himself is metaphorical.

FYI, Jo's knee-high boots are the same ones she refers to in "The Ecstasy of Agony".


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note** : I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

The first thing that registered in Henry's mind was a pair of distant voices.

He opened his eyes long enough to assess the situation. Once satisfied that they posed no threat to him, the heaviness of his eyelids enticed him to return back to his slumber. Having absolutely no strength or desire to resist, he willingly gave into it.

He remained in the quiet space with no concern for the amount of time passing by him. The light weights on and around him never bothered him. If anything, they made him even more comfortable, warmer, and safer than he was in his recent waking hours.

Something pressed into his side, nudging him slightly into awareness. He responded by pulling it closer to him before slipping back toward blissful oblivion.

Eventually, something tickled his eyelids. He reluctantly pulled himself out of the depths of his rest and opened his eyes. He squinted at the filtered sunlight dancing through the branches of the trees across the street. He groaned. Why must the dawn break the peace that had occupied him for who knew how long?

His gaze darted from spot to spot, assessing the details as they came into view. He studied the images on the TV, and, noting the differences, he flipped through his memory until he found the right one. Realizing that he had fallen asleep while he and Jo had watched a late-night movie, the tightening muscles in his back and legs released their grip on him.

Henry turned to Jo. She rested her head in the crease of his neck, her chin against his shoulder. Her fingers caressed his scar, and her palm held his heart. Her other hand was tucked over the small of his back, content to remain in place as she slept. One of his own arms draped around her back while his free hand had found its way to her waist.

His father's instructions on a gentleman's proper conduct around women warned him to extract himself from his situation to protect her honor. Henry ignored the ancient words. He and Jo had been married before, and they knew what they were doing. Besides, if he were to obey them, moving would both wake her and disturb the remainder of his peace. Neither scenario was something that he wanted.

Fortunately, the small voice faded as quickly as it appeared. As he breathed in the coconut and imitation hibiscus scent in her hair, he let it permeate his being. He smiled. She could do or say anything right now, even ordering him to go back to sleep, and he would gladly do her bidding.

Jo stirred and started to lift her head. Henry tilted his slightly back to allow hers to move unhindered.

'"'Morning." Her thick, soft voice locked out his awareness of the world around them.

She straightened her posture, taking care to not move her hands away from their positions. Out of the corner of his eyes, a lock of her hair fell toward her face. His hand left her waist, reached up, and brushed the rebellious strand back behind her ear.

"Good morning, cariña." His soft, husky voice silenced any thoughts about the new day.

His hand lingered near her ear. The light reflected off each speck in her eyes as though they were brown diamonds. Inside him, he could feel a rope wind around his heart and pulling it toward her. As the invisible cord wove several paths around his soul, a faint flash of him sitting before Abigail in a similar manner emerged and disappeared, followed by every memory of his and Jo's relationship.

He took several short breaths. He was being bound to Jo. Body, mind, heart, and soul. The two of them being joined together as one.

Her eyes then left him. Still transfixed, he sensed them tracing his lips. Not wanting to break the spell that he was under, he carefully looked down and tracked her gaze. His heart leapt when he recognized that he was right.

Their eyes met again. He didn't remember what his transformation into an immortal felt like. Yet, he wanted to complete this one in the only way he knew.

"May I kiss you?" To his delight, the thickness in his voice remained.

Jo reached up and caressed his cheek. "You had to ask?"

Henry bowed his head ever so slightly to avoid her nose. When his lips met her body, he quickly noted that they rested on her chin.

Biting back an embarrassed laugh, he worked his way up until his lips finally arrived at their intended destination. He gently caressed hers in a short series of chaste kisses. As he started a second round, she slid her hand around the back of his head and deepened their current kiss.

His hand cupped her cheek. He closed his eyes and let his lips tell her everything that he had longed to say since the moment that he had first laid eyes on her. How her beauty overwhelmed him to the point where he often found himself questioning whether he was dreaming. How her touch made his skin delightfully tingle whenever their hands were together. How her hand on him in times of need reached deep inside him and soothed his psyche. How her eyes always hypnotized him and made him forget everything but what she wanted. Even how long that he had waited for this moment to occur.

He stopped when an unfamiliar, slightly soured taste entered his mouth. Leaving his forehead on hers, he rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheeks and softly chuckled. Was that what Jo's morning breath tasted like? If not, their meal and snacks last night had joined together in one of the most unusual dances of flavor that he had ever known.

Henry gazed into her eyes. Sensing that she was waiting patiently for him, he guided his lips to hers again and fell into another soul kiss.

After a while, his lungs tightened from the lack of air. He reluctantly pulled away, panting with each movement. He gazed into her eyes again. A familiar light—previously unseen in her—filled them, almost as if….

"For an old guy…." Jo smiled. "You're an excellent kisser."

He smiled back. "I've had lots of practice."

She threw her head back on his shoulder, dropped her hand to his chest, and let her fingers grace his scar with their presence. "Want to know the first time that I had wanted that?"

"When?" Even if the kisses cleared his mind of his groggy haze, he couldn't possibly imagine when it was.

She gazed back up at him. "When you told me that I should wake up in Paris and pick a street to go down. Somehow, I imagined the two of us kissing at the foot of the Eiffel Tower and starting our walk there. When Isaac came to pick me up, I saw the image again. That was when I decided to break up with him and go to the shop to talk to you."

Henry grinned. He had dreamed the same thing several times since he had said that.

Knowing that she would not be satisfied until she knew his, he rubbed his shoulder. "Do you remember when you discovered Lucy Templeton's corpse within The Trash Bar's walls?"

"Yeah?" Jo twisted around to face him. "What about it?"

"Just before your call, I had mentioned your date to Abe at dinner. The moment my description of Isaac left my mouth, I suddenly found myself entertaining the image of you and me kissing on your steps. I tried to push the thought out of my mind, but it merely grew stronger during the case."

"You're kidding?" She giggled. "You hid it pretty well." She sobered for a second, followed by widening eyes. "I made you jealous when I kissed Isaac at the karaoke bar." She rested her head on his shoulder again and traced his scar. "That explains why you were a little down when we left. I'd always thought it reminded you of you and Abigail."

Henry chuckled. "At the time, I had no idea of the strength of my feelings for you. I'm still amazed that I could maintain a sense of propriety in spite of my jealousy during our next one."

Jo grew quiet for a moment. "You couldn't act on your feelings, though. You wouldn't have been able to devote yourself to another woman again as long as you didn't know what happened to Abigail. And you couldn't have devoted yourself to me when you were still terrified of my reaction to your condition. If we were to have gotten together then…."

He looked away and at the pictures that sat around the TV. She was right. He couldn't have given her his whole heart then. He would have broken hers the first time that his immortality had come between them. He would have also caused the end of their professional relationship as well as their personal one with his distrust.

She snuggled against him, reminding him of the present. He reached up, cupped her cheek, and smiled at her. "We're together now."

Her smile and her eyes tempted him to kiss her again. He leaned over, rested his lips on her….

…and a loud thud sliced through the apartment.

Henry groaned as he reluctantly untangled himself from Jo and pushed himself off the sofa. He wasn't sure what was worse: an interrupted kiss or the disruption of his peace of mind.

He opened the door and peered down the halls. He narrowed his eyes. No one occupied the corridor.

As he started to shut the door, a white object caught his eye. He reached down. He dropped his jaw when he noticed the newspaper on his stoop.

His blood froze, and it chilled his spine. Few people knew of his habit of reading a physical newspaper…and, as far as he knew, no one in the building did. He made certain of that.

His legs buckling, he eased the door close and leaned against it. He unwrapped the periodical and unrolled it. When nothing fell out, he peeked between the folded sections. He tugged the slender, white envelope out from its hiding spot, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and studied the handwritten address.

"What is it?"

Jo's voice called to him. Drawing strength from her, he shuffled back to the sofa, dropping the newspaper onto the coffee table as he settled beside her.

He shook the envelope. "How did he get our address? Everyone we told has been sworn to secrecy."

Her hand found his back. "I don't know. Maybe he asked someone who had swept the apartment before we moved in." She nodded to the "gift". "What does Adam have to say?"

Henry carefully opened the envelope, tugged out the white card, and opened it. As Jo leaned over his shoulder to read it, he let her presence still his trembling hands and fill him with courage.

" _Although we haven't officially met yet, I feel a special kinship to you. I had recently learned that you and your girlfriend could be in danger. Seeing that the law enforcement community seems to be unconcerned about it, I took it upon myself to inform you about the threat. Please give my regards to the good woman that you've found. Should you need my aid, you have my number. I would be glad to be of assistance._

" _Your friend."_

Henry's mind raced through the possibilities. Even if the note implied that he could rule Adam out as their only stalker, he still couldn't help but to wonder if he should break their cover to learn what Adam had learned.

Jo's warmth stilled his thoughts. He took a deep breath. No, he wouldn't. When they had their warm milk, he had silently promised her that he would not confront Adam for the duration of their stay here. He couldn't bear it if he were to break it and she were to be hurt or….

A laugh cut through his thoughts. Henry peered over his shoulder at Jo. "What?"

She nodded at the letter. "He still believes that you can't remember anything."

Henry re-read the note. A moment later, a laugh escaped his lips. "How are we managing to fool him for this long? For someone who had walked the earth as long as he has, he should have picked up on our deception by now."

Jo's eyes roamed his. "I don't think we should tell Lieu about this."

His jaw fell open. Before he could ask why, Lt. Reece's numerous reminders about her knowledge of the precinct's activities echoed in his head. He glanced back down at the note. He carefully closed it and tucked it in his pocket.

"You're right. Adam must have contacted her before this. Even if he hasn't, she has already prepared for the possibility of him trying to harm us. Sooner or later, he will have to tip her off about his intentions."

Henry stared past Jo and huffed. How could Adam destroy the quiet of his mind?

Jo nudged him, prompting him to abandon his thoughts. Her lips tickled his ears.

"Say," her voice rendered him absolutely still. "Want to go upstairs after breakfast?"

Once the words registered, he blinked. It took him a moment to remember that the apartment had a rooftop deck…and a pool.

He studied her and grinned. "You're looking forward to seeing me in my swim trunks again?"

She shook her head. "You might be used to swimming in ice cold water, but I'm not." She grinned. "I was thinking about taking in the view of the city." She peered over his shoulder before turning back to him. "Maybe we can get it in before it rains again."

He twisted around and studied the sky. The few specks of sky in the trees slowly turned gray. She was right. They were in for some rain again.

Henry pushed himself off the sofa again and helped Jo to her feet. As he accompanied her to her bedroom like the gentleman he was raised to be, the note's contents called back to him. He shoved the thoughts aside. He didn't doubt that Adam was, in a rather misguided way, attempting to warn them of what they already knew. He, however, didn't wish to think about it. What mattered now was Jo and her happiness…

…and he wanted to give it to her for the rest of their lives together.

* * *

Jo wrapped her arms around her as she stepped away from the elevator doors and toward the entry. Maybe she should have suggested a warmer activity for them to do. Even though the temperature was comfortable for this time of year, the cloud cover and their location over the city made the temperature feel colder than she had expected.

A moment later, Henry's arm found her waist, and he pulled her closer to him. She snuggled against him, tucked her free hand in her pocket, and basked in his warmth. She glanced at the floor's lone occupant staring out over the city. A small part of her wanted to know why the woman was there, but Jo shoved the thought aside and wished that she would ignore them.

Henry nudged Jo toward the railing. Once they arrived, he rested one hand on it and wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned against him, reached back, and placed her hand on the small of his back.

He bowed his head, his breath tickling her ear. "Remember when we last did this?"

"How can I forget?" After she had checked on him, the two of them had lost track of time on Mike and Karen's hotel balcony. It had been their first fun activity since they had declared their love for each other the day before.

Jo twisted around, reached up, and wrapped her arms around Henry's neck. Remembering that she had changed into some flats, she stood on tiptoes, planted her lips on his, and caressed them.

As he set his hands on her waist and eased her feet back to the ground, she closed her eyes and let him deepen the kiss. When he had left his hand near her ear, she gazed into his eyes. A second later, she could feel an invisible rope wrapping itself around her heart and pulling it toward him. As it continued around her soul, she saw a flash of her gazing into Sean's eyes, and every memory of her and Henry's relationship quickly followed. She realized that her heart, body, mind, and soul was being bound to his. The next thing that she had known, she had found herself wanting them to complete the transformation with a kiss.

He stopped long enough to let her start again. In one of the few girly moments that she had growing up, she used to dream about being a princess and marrying a handsome prince. Reality, though, was far better. For, in this moment, she was a queen and Henry her loyal knight.

Feeling the need for air, she pulled away and rested her forehead and nose against his. Grinning and panting, she gazed into his eyes. She could not stop telling him everything that she had wanted say since she had first seen him. Like, how his rugged good looks and British accent made her mind melt whenever she pleased. Or how his touch made her tingle whenever they were close to each other. Or how, when he held her, her worries disappeared. Or how his brown eyes could weaken any resistance that she had and convince her to think about he wanted. She doubted that she ever wanted to stop.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Henry's low voice rumbled through her, tingling her mind.

"Just how much I love you."

Jo ran her fingers along his nape, catching the bottom of his hair. He pulled her closer to him. She grinned wider at their closeness and the slight side-to-side rock as he held her. She quickly filed his reaction away for future reference and twirled a curl around her finger to see what he would do.

"I love you too."

Her eyes stayed locked on him. She would give anything to ensure his happiness for the rest of their lives together. Even become immortal herself if fate would allow her.

Footsteps echoed behind them. Recognizing how they must have looked to others, they bowed their heads and stepped back. Her hands dropping to his arms, Jo twisted herself around Henry to see who had interrupted them. Her eyes slightly narrowed when she discovered a blond woman walking toward them.

Jo stared at the woman and swallowed. Instead of pointing herself for the elevators, she was heading straight for them.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Jo noticed Henry turning back to her. He leaned over, his warm breath tickling her ear again.

"Want to greet our neighbor?"

"Looks like we have no choice."

She plastered a smile on her face as Henry eased behind her. She wished that she had suggested something else to do. If she knew that they would have company….

The blond woman smiled at her. "Hi. You must be new here. I'm Emma."

The name poked the memory of her and Henry's conversation with Ryan. It chilled the warmth that she had enjoyed and intensified the air around her. Jo could not shake the feeling that Emma had a role in Dexter's death.

Remembering her manners and her cover, Jo extended her hand. "Jane Morgan. And this is my husband Hank. We moved in almost two weeks ago."

Her stomach churned as Emma took Jo's hand. She wished that she could use their real names, and a part of her was ready to burst with the good news about their relationship.

Emma smiled. "That must be where I had seen you. Somehow, I thought I knew you from somewhere else."

Jo reluctantly fished her law enforcement training out of the recesses of her memory. She willed herself to take steady breaths and to keep her mind open to everything that Emma said and did.

"So…" Emma leaned against the wall. "How long have you been together?"

Henry and Jo exchanged looks and smiled. "We've been together for four years, but we have been married for a month and a half."

As the words left Jo's mouth, a pang of guilt struck her heart. The first part was true, but the second…. She resisted the urge to sigh as the chain of events that had led to their confession of love flowed past her.

"How did you two meet?"

Jo opened and shut her mouth. This was far more details than either she or Henry had discussed when developing their cover.

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight. She briefly closed her eyes. She could see him holding her this way while gazing out at Paris from their hotel room's balcony.

Her eyes opened with the idea. Henry and Abe had once told her that their lies always contained a degree of the truth in it. Maybe….

She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. "Four years ago, my then-boyfriend wanted to whisk me off to a romantic vacation." Her heart ached at the thought of being unable to tell anyone what really happened next. "Anyway, I had gone to my usual coffee shop before I started my day tutoring my online literature students. While on my way to the counter, his computer screen caught my eye. I took a look at it and saw that he was a travel agent."

He chuckled. "She was spying on me."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "I was not. When you asked me if I needed some help, I was checking you out." She smiled. "He made a few suggestions, one of which was Paris. I thanked him and got my coffee. By the time that I was leaving, he was already gone."

Emma ran her hands over her hair. "Did you make it to Paris?"

Jo shook her head. "I broke it off with my ex before he had bought the tickets. For whatever reason, I couldn't stop thinking about the guy who I had run into."

Her eyes dropped to study the street below them. When Isaac had picked her up, she had found herself wishing that the limo was Abe's sedan and that Henry was in the back seat instead of Isaac. As they started for JFK, she could see herself kissing Henry at the foot of the Eiffel Tower and then nudging him down one of the streets. The next thing that she had known, she had dumped Isaac, hailed a taxi, and was directing the driver to the shop and to Henry.

Henry pulled her closer. "I was immediately captivated by her. Days passed without a second sighting of her, and I thought that we would never see each other again." He chuckled. "Little did we know that we lived in the same neighborhood."

"Which one?"

Jo snapped her head up. "SoHo."

Henry's voice chimed in "Tribeca."

They looked at each other and chuckled. Henry shifted his weight on his feet, each move taking her with him.

He cleared his throat. "We lived in a couple of apartment complexes along Canal. Mine's was at Crosby while Jane's was closer to Thompson. The coffee shop where we had met was at Greene."

Emma raised an eyebrow, sending a chill through Jo. She snuggled as close to Henry as she could to warm up. What was giving Emma cause for concern?

Henry took her hand into his. He traced the back of her hand with his thumb, erasing her worries with each stroke. "We encountered each other at the coffee shop again a few weeks later. Morning coffees led to evening dinners and dates. Last year, I proposed to her at the same table where we had sat when we had met."

Jo leaned against him. That sounded insanely romantic.

Her heart wrenched though. Their real lives consisted of cases, autopsies, close calls, many glasses of alcohol, and almost as many dinners at the shop. Nothing suggested that anyone could find love while constantly dealing with death.

The slight breeze, the traffic below her, and Henry's arms told Jo to close her eyes. She found his heartbeat tapping her shoulder. She smiled. Then again, maybe it was fitting for them to find each other following one of his deaths. Abigail and Sean had unintentionally ripped massive holes in their spouses' hearts, ones that had left them dead inside. After Henry had left her hospital bedside during the close of their first case, Jo had realized that the feeling that had begun to stir deep inside her when their eyes had first met was a breath of life. It took four years to recognize that a spark of love had started at that moment as well.

"Where did you go on your honeymoon?"

Jo's eyes popped open. The photos that Lucas had created flashed in her mind. She softly chuckled. "He took me on a trip around the world."

Emma's eyes and mouth widened. "Really?" She sighed happily. "That sounds so romantic."

Jo nodded. "We've been to Hawaii, the Taj Mahal, and Paris before deciding to find a new place to live."

Emma arched an eyebrow. "Hawaii? Where at?"

"Honolulu." Jo's voice echoed in Henry's.

Henry's chin came to rest on Jo's shoulder. "The North Shore. I lost track of the number of walks we shared on the beach. I tried to talk her into taking surfing lessons, but she refused because she was afraid that I would drown."

Jo resisted the urge to shoot Henry a look. He would have some major explaining to do if Emma caught him in the pool. Otherwise his swimming ability would give him away.

Emma studied them. "Cody and I had been to the North Shore ourselves. For a while, we thought that the honeymoon wouldn't happen."

Jo cocked her head. "Why's that?"

"Work. You know how it is when two professionals work odd hours."

As Jo was about to agree with her, Emma's guardedness knocked something loose in Jo's memory. She suddenly knew exactly who Cody was. Her heart raced at the thought forming in her mind.

Looking for a distraction, Jo raced through Ryan's comments. "How did you and Cody meet?"

Emma chuckled. "We met here in the lobby. He was leaving the gym and found my dirty laundry and me waiting for the elevators. We introduced ourselves and exchanged apartment numbers. I mentioned that I was moving in, and he offered to help. I considered it for a moment before saying yes. Anyway, over the next two years, we kept bumping into each other in the lobby and here. We started talking, and we fell in love. Nine years ago, he proposed to me almost where the two of you are standing. Naturally, I said yes, and we moved in together not long afterward."

"How long have you been married?"

"It will be nine years this July. We couldn't wait to get married, so we had a four month engagement."

Jo widened her eyes. She and Sean had waited about a year before they had gotten married. And Henry and Abigail had waited almost as long although they had been together for ten years. She couldn't imagine having such a short engagement.

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Do you hear something ticking?"

Jo peeked out of the corner of her eyes. The quiet ticks of Henry's pocket watch rose over the traffic below.

She pulled her lips together and shook her head. "Nope. I don't hear anything." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Henry shaking his head as well.

Emma tilted her head. "I'm sure that I hear something." She listened for a moment. "I don't know why, but I swear that it sounds like—."

Henry and Jo exchanged glances. "What do you think it is?"

She stared at them wide-eyed. "I—." She averted her gaze to a spot on the ground. "I once overheard a police officer talking about a medical examiner here in New York who carries a pocket watch with him all the time." She giggled. "He and his partner were placing a bet on the next time that they had to arrest him near the East River. The guy I overheard wondered why the watch and his clothes disappeared every time they arrested him."

The description froze Jo's blood. She rubbed her thumb under her wedding band. What did Emma….?

Emma shrugged. "I guess that I'm hearing things."

She checked her watch and smiled at them. "I have to get going. It's my day off, and I am supposed to be meeting Cody for lunch. I guess I'll see you around."

Jo waved at Emma as she left for the elevators. The detective pulled her lips together to keep the bile from leaving her mouth. She wasn't sure what was worse: the idea that Emma was behind Dexter's murder or that Cody knew that they were there.

Henry's huff drew Jo's attention back to him. She turned in time to see his lips curled.

"How could I have been so foolish?" he hissed. "One small detail neglected, and one's entire life can unravel in an instance. King Richard the Third had lost the Battle of Bosworth Field and his life because of the lack of a horse."

He released her and shoved his hands into his pocket. He bowed his head before meeting Jo's gaze. "And I have nearly blown our cover because I couldn't leave my pocket watch behind."

Jo blew out some air. She hated to see him like this. He shouldn't blame himself for his slip. It was a family heirloom, and his grandfather's ownership of it had been the only reason that he had accepted it from his father moments before Robert's death. As a result, Henry had rarely been without his watch since Abigail had discovered it among the other finds at an antiques auction and had purchased it for him decades ago.

He pulled his mouth tight. "I should have left it back at the shop. I—."

She took his free hand into hers. "She believed you when you said that you didn't hear it." Since he had become immortal, he had heard a clock's ticks only twice over the course of two centuries: when Adam had called him about his theory of their original weapons bringing about their final deaths and again for two weeks almost two months ago. Every other time, he had been completely deaf to it.

His eyes roamed her face. "What is it?"

She startled. Remembering what she had thought, she pulled her lips together and decided to tell him. "Do you remember when we first heard Cody's name?"

He nodded. "What about it?"

She swallowed. "He's the captain of the 11th's homicide squad. All cases, both on-the books and off, go straight to him."

Lt. Roarke's voice instructing Jo to keep Dexter's death as an off-the books investigation whispered to her. Her eyes widened at the reason for Mike and Lieu's difficulties. "Even my investigation into Dexter's death."

Her stomach churned. How could her boss be connected to this? Did he know what had kept her from following her leads? And how much did he know about their move here?

Henry turned to the wall and laid his hands on it. For a moment, Jo thought that she saw his eyes water. "Perhaps we should move again. I know of a few places where nobody can find us." He stared out at the nearby park. "Or we could go to any country you choose." His Adam's apple bobbed. "If you want, we can leave tonight."

She bit her lower lip in thought. The offer was very tempting. She laid her hand over her forehead and sighed. To her surprise, it was not what she wanted.

She joined him, placed her hands on his back and his forearm, and rubbed his back. "No. We're staying."

Henry turned to her and raised his eyebrows. "What? I can't let you—."

"I know that I'm mortal." She released one hand and laid it on his cheek. She traced the soft skin and the Longsworth cheekbone that Henry had inherited from his mother with her thumb. "And it's sweet that you want to protect me from whoever wants to harm me."

She returned her hand to its spot and locked eyes on him. "But I don't want to risk the old Henry Morgan returning to life. I don't want you to return to your old habits on my account. I—."

Thousands of thoughts and feelings jostled each other in her head. She found it difficult to latch onto any one of them. All she knew was that she loved Henry and that she didn't want to spend her life running because of their stalker.

She found his hand and squeezed it. "Besides, we don't have any evidence that Cody or Emma is behind this."

"All we have are speculations." His eyes searched hers. "We should wait until someone makes a move before we report it to Lt. Reece. That way…."

Jo averted her eyes. They wouldn't tip Cody off to their presence or their departure.

She glanced up at the sky. Clouds gathered over their head as fast as they could. She sighed. Their time upstairs was growing short. If they didn't want to get caught in the rain again, they needed to hurry.

She nudged Henry. "Want to go inside?"

He blinked at her question, peeked at the sky, and turned back to her. He bowed his head and nodded. Her heart clenched at the glistening streaks beside his nose. Had he been crying when she wasn't looking?

As they left for the elevators, she sneaked a peek at Henry. She hoped that it was the right one…for both of their sakes. She didn't know what she would do if she had made the wrong one.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** If you want to know my reaction to the first part of the chapter, I was almost shouting "Yes!" when I read it. You also can imagine what I was thinking when Adam decided to interrupt the couple. XD

A minor literary note: Shakespeare took some major liberties when he immortalized the Battle of Bosworth Field in Shakespeare's _Richard III_. Richard losing his horse during the battle is one of them. (He was offered one, but he refused.) Since I've mentioned Shakespeare earlier, it was more appropriate to use the play than the historical facts for Henry's lament about his pocket watch.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note** : Hi! I'm doing Camp NaNoWriMo again. If I'm a little late in posting the next chapter, please forgive me. I'm working on the rest of this story and one that I had started last summer at the same time. Hopefully, they both will be nearly finished by the end of the month.

I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

Jo groaned, prompting Henry's head to snap up from his book. A lump grew in his throat when she dropped the scarf that she was knitting into her lap, reached up, and rubbed her neck. He had known her long enough to know that, every time her neck had bothered her, it was from either emotional tension or an awkward position while she slept. Of the moment, he couldn't tell which it was.

He placed his book on the end table beside the sofa, twisted himself toward her, and draped one arm around her shoulders. "Jo, talk to me."

Her silence pierced his heart. She had been relatively quiet since she had decided that they would remain in their apartment for a while longer. Although the hope of them staying in their safe place until Mike, Lucas, and Lt. Reece broke the case had been growing by the moment, he still wondered if they had made the right decision. He could only imagine what she was thinking.

Lowering her arm and rolling her shoulders, she opened her tightly-squeezed eyes. She took one glance at her work, huffed, and rolled it up before setting it on the other end table.

"I must have slept the wrong way on the bed last night." She reached over and took her shoulder. "I think I'm getting a headache."

Henry ran his free hand through his hair as his medical training implored him to do something. Normally, aspirin took care of the pain, but not when it was this severe. A run alleviated her stress in ways that tempted him to pick it up himself, but she hadn't been in days. The unseasonably cooler temperatures had completely dissuaded her from taking advantage of the benefits of merely floating in the swimming pool's water. It was still too early in the afternoon for her to stretch out on her bed. Even if he mentioned either the run or a nap, she would refuse the suggestions just like she had when she had contemplated taking her knitting out onto the patio.

After a moment, Jo walked her hand over to his and rested it on top. Her squeeze made his heart cringe. He hated that she had been unable to find rest throughout the past day and a half. If only….

His mind hit on one possibility. He bit his lower lip. It had helped her the last time that he had done it. In the event it did not take care of the pain, it could possibly give her some of what she had been missing.

"Do you want a massage?"

She stopped rubbing her forehead and bit her lower lip. She then nodded as he could see the gears in her head turn.

She dropped her hand into her lap. Turning to him, she smiled. "It helped last time." She shrugged her shoulders. "Sure. Why not?"

Henry peeked over at the chairs in the dining area. He hated to make her walk that far if she relaxed the way that she had after the last one. He didn't see how she had managed to remain upright. When he had assisted her from the taxi to the shop's door years ago, her drunken state had inevitably prompted him to pick her up and carry her upstairs to the sofa. He wondered how Lt. Reece had managed to ensure Jo's safety while escorting her to her car.

A splash of white caught his eyes. He rolled his tongue in his mouth. _Perfect_. He bent over and cleared the newspaper that Adam had "given" them and the pair of _Mad Libs_ books from the coffee table.

"What are you doing?"

He snapped his head toward Jo. "Clearing the coffee table so you can have a place to sit."

"Why can't you do it at the table?"

He gazed into her eyes. "Remember what happened the last time I gave you a massage?"

She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her forehead. A moment later, her eyes glazed over.

She then burst into laughter. "I don't think I would have made it home if Lieu didn't drive me back. I probably would have curled up in the backseat of my car and went to sleep right there in the parking lot."

She sighed. "Okay. Let's do this."

"I'll carry you back to the sofa if you can't walk."

Jo leaned against him, her nose and forehead touching his. "You're looking forward to that again, huh?"

Henry's eyes traced a path along the specks in Jo's. He hadn't thought of that moment since their first day here.

Feeling some of his more passionate nature surfacing, he resisted the temptation to give into them. "Now since you mentioned it, it would be nice to hold you like that again."

"Where do you want me?"

"Lady's choice."

She bit her lower lip. Just as she started to smile, she winced, prompting him to emit a soft one of his own.

"I'll surprise you."

They pushed themselves off the sofa, and he replaced the items on the table. She walked around the piece of furniture, reaching up to pull her hair back. She stopped and peered over her shoulder at him. Smiling, she flipped her hair back to its original position.

He grinned as wide as he could. She had apparently enjoyed that part also.

While Jo led him to the dining room table, Henry rubbed his hands together and blew on them. In a way, he wished for an aromatherapy oil to rub into her skin to help her relax more. Before they had left, he had overheard Karen mentioning her massage therapist using it and the effect it had had on her. His own touch had greatly relaxed Jo last time, but he had no guarantee that it would go the same way again.

Once at the table, he whipped the chair out for her. Her eyes met his again before she settled into it. He took her hair into his hands, and the movement sent a strong tingle throughout his body. He breathlessly gathered the strands, twisted them together, and reverentially laid over her shoulder.

Remembering how deep he had pressed into her skin, he repeated it. "How does this feel?"

"Feels good."

Satisfied that it hadn't changed, he set to work sliding his hands over her neck and shoulders and noting each knot's location. His heart wrenched at the number of them. Her tension was much worse than he had thought. How she had been able to obtain any sleep at all throughout the night, he would never know.

He took a deep breath and refocused his attention to his task. As he swept over her shoulders, each pass drained a little more of his own tension away from his shoulders and prevented his thoughts from stirring much. He smiled. He didn't know how much _he_ needed it.

He moved his hands onto her neck and up to her ears. His middle finger landed in the recess between her right ear and her neck. Recognizing a small knot that he had missed under his thumb, he slid his hand down toward it. His finger brushed against one spot between the two locations. She rolled her head to the side and let loose a soft, throaty moan.

Henry stopped and stared at Jo. Had he…?

His cheeks and the room warmed faster than he could imagine. He wished that the ground would open up, swallow him, and bury him under it. He had believed that he had injured her when he had….

"Don't stop," she whispered.

Her words registered in his mind, and he blinked himself back into the present. He took several breaths to calm his racing heart. He couldn't blame himself for his lack of knowledge about women during his offering in the precinct's evidence room. His condition then had blocked his centuries of experiences, leaving him unable to ascertain how it would affect her. If anything, it might had kept him from making a rash move had his more sensual nature possessed him shortly after their declarations of love.

Remembering how Abigail reacted when he had kissed her on the neck, he tilted his head and noted the spot where his hand rested on Jo's. Wanting to confirm his suspicions, he gave it a gentle rub. He smiled when another moan rumbled in her throat. He was definitely using this again to please her sometime in the future.

He swept his hands down her neck one last time before he moved to her shoulder blades. He gave them a good rub, and she leaned back onto his hands. His smile widened as her slowing breathing bumped against his palms. Perhaps, now, she could snatch a little bit of rest.

He swept his hands over her body one last time before returning to her neck. He walked his hands down, and his thumbs pleaded for the knots to release their grip on Jo. He smiled as each one surrendered to his touch.

When he felt the last one disappear, he kneaded the areas once more. He continued working until he believed that her muscles had been worked enough.

Gliding his hands over her for the final time, his heart cringed. He hated to move her. She would be more comfortable on the sofa, but he preferred that she remained as well-rested as possible.

Henry swallowed and decided to take a chance at disturbing her. He eased around the chair, squatted in front of Jo, and took her hands into his.

"Jo?"

A couple of moments later, she slowly stretched and blinked her eyes open. She glanced down at their hands, let her glassy gaze travel up to his eyes, and smiled.

"Hey, _mi corazon_. What's up?"

Henry's heart raced within his chest, stealing his breath with each beat. _Mi corazon_ …"my heart". Since his confession that he was immortal, Jo had always felt like an eternal part of his life. How had she come to view him as a vital part of hers?

Her eyelids started to flutter. He gently squeezed her hands. She responded to his silent request by shifting her weight and training her gaze upon his.

"You'll be more comfortable elsewhere. Where do you want to be?"

"The sofa."

She released his hands, anchored hers to her thighs, and tried to lift herself up. No soon than she had almost stood, she fell back into the seat.

She scoffed. "The next time I can't sleep, I'm getting you to massage me."

Henry pushed himself up, took her hands, helped her up, and guided her to the table. "Why is that?"

Watching him swing the chair back into position, Jo leaned against the table. "You might not believe it, but your hands have a magic touch."

"I'm not sure if I could say that." Abe had mentioned during his lesson that every woman reacted differently when they received a massage. Given the circumstances leading up to both of Jo's, she could have been more tired than she had thought, and the massage had brought it out.

"You do."

Henry motioned for her to wrap her arms around his neck. Once secured, he wrapped one arm around her back and the other under her legs. The moment he lifted her off the ground, every fiber in his being quickened almost as if he were in the East River. He quickly charted a course back through the living room.

Reminding himself to watch his step, Henry gingerly moved away from their table. Jo's arms tightened around his neck, and she snuggled into his chest. He grinned at their synchronized heartbeats. If he had any lingering doubts about his body's reaction to hers, each pulse was erasing them.

He glanced up and noticed that the sofa was drawing near. He eased through the gap between the furniture and carefully set her on the seat closest to him. She blinked and gazed into his eyes as he settled down next to her. She curled her legs behind her and tucked her purple-clad feet under her rear end. She then propped her elbow onto the back of the sofa and rested her head on the back of her hand.

"Want to lay down?"

Jo's eyes widened, and she opened and closed her mouth several times. "On your lap?"

"I could move to the chair or on the floor if you want me to."

She shook her head. "I'm just a little surprised. I never imagined you allowing any woman to…."

He scanned her face. "I've done it with only one woman before, and that was with Abigail to make her feel more comfortable when we were sitting on a sofa. I want to afford you with the same ability."

Her eyes traced his face. "Since you've put it that way…."

Jo gave him a peck on the cheek and lowered herself to the seat. The moment her head met his legs, his stomach fluttered as though it had been possessed by butterflies. He grasped the sofa's back a little tighter. It had been one very long while since any woman provoked that reaction. And, admittedly, he had been dreaming of this moment on-and-off since he had noticed his feelings for her.

" _Why didn't we notice each other then?"_

Henry absentmindedly ran his fingers through Jo's hair. He had told her at Summit Rock that he had believed that it wasn't the right time. He wasn't convinced that they would have worked out as a couple then. If they had met nine years ago, he would have surely refused to have much to do with her. As he had been completely focused on his experiments, he would have only sought a momentary comfort in her arms, and, likely, he would not have seen her ever again. As for her, he had no idea whether she would have been interested in him at all…even without knowing about his condition. Perhaps fate had waited until they were ready to share their lives with each other.

He sighed. How many times since Abigail's disappearance had he longed for a wife to share his life with? When was the first time after that fateful day that he had felt that way?

 _ **Southwest Corner of the 11th Precinct/OCME, New York City, June 29, 2009**_

 _Henry cursed himself as he pedaled the last few feet to the southwest corner of the building. He had rarely overslept, and he certainly had never been late to work recently. Yet, he had startled awake when Abe had opened the door and announced that he was missing at their breakfast table._

 _He swung his leg off the bike, walked it to the rack, and scrubbed his face. Admittedly, the past week was a huge blur. The only thing that he could remember about it—and the memory was so vague that he swore that he could have been dreaming the entire scenario—was telling Abe that he had to call 9-1-1 for a unconscious woman and Abe suggesting that he should find her and check up on her. It seemed as though whatever had happened had joined his memories of Abigail in fading from his consciousness for perhaps all of eternity._

 _He squatted down, fished his bike lock out of his coat pocket, and secured it around the rack. He couldn_ _'t think of that now. Dr. Ross was expecting him to be in his scrubs and by the man's side within five minutes. If he hurried, maybe he could make it before the man he surprisingly considered his mentor questioned him about his morning._

 _Standing, Henry gave a pleased huff and set his hands on his hips. That should keep anyone from walking off with his only form of personal transportation. He wouldn_ _'t know what he would do if his bike were to be stolen._

 _A pair of voices grunted and then muttered. Ordinarily, he would ignore them, but, for some reason, he couldn_ _'t resist their call. He turned in time to see a man and a woman standing halfway between the corner of the building and the bike rack. The man's back was turned to him, shielding the rest of the woman's body and her face from view._

 _Henry_ _'s heart ached as they ran their hands through their hair and bowed their heads in a carefully choreographed dance. He didn't know why, but, for the past four days, he had found himself longing to join a wife at the dinner table, on the sofa, or in bed and share his day with her. Maybe it was because of…._

 _The gap in his memory jerked him out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath and squashed the longing before it had a chance to grow more._

 _He took another look at the couple and offered them an unacknowledged smile._ _"May you both enjoy a long and happy life together. May it be filled with love, children, and many happy memories."_

 _As he turned to leave for work, he caught sight of the woman_ _'s ear. Something about it and the way her hair fell around it called to him and begged him to connect it with the images from the week that he had seen. He shoved the thought aside. Even if the faint snippet was real, he wouldn't know where to start in his search for the mysterious woman. He didn't even have an idea of how he had found her in her condition or why he had seemed to be worried about her. The best that he could hope for was for fate to bring them together again if he were to ever discover the truth about her._

 _And he seriously doubted fate ever would._

 _ **The Viele, Upper West Side, New York City, Present Day**_

He blinked several times and stared into space. He hadn't thought of that in a very long time.

"Mind if I took a nap?"

Jo's quiet question snapped him out of his pondering. While she nestled her head in his lap, he brushed her hair back. "Not at all. Take as much time as you need."

Her even breathing and her head sinking deeper into his legs kept his attention from drifting away from her. He smiled at her. Of this moment, she had all the time in the world.

He started to lean over to kiss her on the top of her head as he had always done with Abe and Abigail. Her body, however, kept him from bending over fully.

Henry bit his lower lip in an attempt to not laugh. He had forgotten how difficult it was for him to do that when Abigail had rested in his lap. He might as well enjoy Jo's presence on it.

His eyes traveled toward Jo's right ear. He started to brush her hair back when an image laid itself over it. He cocked his head. It couldn't be….

…could it?

 _ **Abe**_ _ **'s Antiques, New York City, June 25, 2009**_

" _What on Earth happened this time?!"_

 _Henry brushed past Abe and sped for his bedroom._ _"I don't want to talk about it."_

" _You didn't decide to experiment on yourself in broad daylight, did you?"_

 _Abe_ _'s footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors behind him. Henry pulled his lips together. He hated it when Abe followed him to his inner sanctum. He slammed his door shut, hoping that his son would keep a respectable distance away for the time being._

 _He jerked a clean suit of clothes out and changed into them._ _"Abraham, I wouldn't be that stupid. Dr. Ross would catch me for sure if I did, and I am pretty sure that he would probably inform Bellevue of my decision to kill myself."_

 _The idea stabbed him in the heart, causing an unexpected wince to rise up in him. He honestly believed that the other ME wouldn_ _'t do anything to betray him. At times, he longed to tell his mentor the truth, but Nora's words echoing in his head stopped him from saying a word._

" _Is this related to your recent brooding?"_

 _Henry slowed his movements as he slipped on his socks. He closed his eyes as he could almost feel a metal pipe landing against the base of his head. His mind rolled back through the events. He gulped. He wished that he had done more to fend off his attacker. If he did, maybe..._

 _He huffed. Perhaps he should mention it to Abe. It could help him regain his perspective on things._

 _He opened the door and ignored his son_ _'s uncrossing arms and straightening posture. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "It is."_

 _He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it up._ _"It's not what you think." He rolled his tongue around in his mouth. How was he going to explain this?_

" _Enlighten me."_

 _Henry pointed himself toward the kitchen._ _"I think that I've made a mistake while looking into a death."_

" _What do you mean?"_

 _The kitchen and dining area emerged into view. Feeling his legs slowly vanishing under him, Henry directed himself to his usual chair._

 _He propped his elbow on the table and held his head. He stared at Abe and sensed his son was waiting for an answer. Henry rearranged himself into a more proper sitting position, folded his hands together, and decided that he might as well start at the beginning._

" _Do you remember our argument the other day?"_

 _Abe trained his eyes on the older man._ _"Yeah. Go on."_

 _Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth and lowered his gaze._ _"I, um, I decided to take a walk before work to clear my head. I, um, I…."_

 _He swallowed. With the exception of his first one, he talked about his deaths as readily as he did his trips to Paul Stuart. Why was it difficult to talk about this one?_

 _The image of the young woman lying motionless on the ground, her position concealing her face, flashed before him. He could see himself reaching under her and checking her pulse and breathing. Before he knew it, he apologized to her, reached into her pocket, and pulled out her cell phone. His fingers hesitantly found the phone_ _'s dial pad and dialed 9-1-1. As he started to give the operator details of the woman's condition…._

" _Did the paramedics reach her in time?"_

" _Her?" Abe's shocked tone yanked Henry out of his memory._

 _He met his son_ _'s widening eyes. "I, um, I found a young woman lying face-down on the ground." He scoffed. "Or about as face-down as one can get with a cheek against the sidewalk. Anyway…." He hope that his son would believe him. "I checked her vitals and called 9-1-1 just before…"_

 _His voice trailed off. He wasn_ _'t sure, but he thought that he had seen her stirring slightly while he was losing consciousness. What if she was waking up? What if she caught his latest death?_

 _His eyes widened, and his heart galloped. He had nearly jeopardized his ability to gather data about lasting deaths to uncover the differences between them and his immortality. How could he be so foolish?_

" _Maybe you should try to find her."_

 _Henry stared at his son._ _"Abraham!" Noticing the younger Morgan's stunned face, he sighed. "It's not that simple. I didn't get a good look at her face," just a glimpse of her ear and the way her hair fell around it. He shrugged. "I don't even know her name or anything about her. It would be impossible to find her."_

 _He reached his hand into his pocket and tried to find his pocket watch. He cursed himself. He would have to go back to the scene and search for it. It would have to wait until tomorrow. He didn_ _'t have much time today. The detention center had released him with barely enough time to go home, eat breakfast, and to report to work without being late._

 _He studied Abe. In a way, he wouldn_ _'t mind if he could try to find her. He wasn't sure if he could ever live with not knowing her condition. Perhaps they could even start a friendship…._

 _He huffed. That wouldn_ _'t be possible. Not if she had witnessed his latest death. He couldn't risk her calling Bellevue…or her believing she had seen a ghost if they were to meet._

" _Besides…." Henry broke his gaze for a moment. "Even if I found her, I don't want to risk an emotional entanglement with her. I…."_

" _Sometimes, I think your heart is dead."_

 _Abe_ _'s words pierced him. "My heart is fine!" His tone cautioned him to watch himself, but he ignored it. "It has been almost 200 years since…"_

" _I didn't mean your physical one!" Abe narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "I meant your emotional one!"_

 _Their eyes met, and Henry bowed his head. He didn_ _'t want another argument before work. All they were causing him was trouble._

 _Henry looked over at the stove. His mouth fell slightly open. Had he prevented Abe from preparing breakfast?_

 _He looked at the young man again._ _"Do you want to go out to eat? It could give us both a break."_

 _Abe pushed himself away from the table._ _"Sounds good to me. Where do you want to go?"_

" _How about the cafe over on Orchard?" Henry followed Abe to the stairwell._

" _We haven't been there for a while. Wonder how their breakfast sandwiches are now."_

 _As they climbed down the stairs, the images of the young woman flashed before him. He pulled his lips together and buried the memories deep in the recesses of his mind. Perhaps forgetting about her was for the best. As much as he wanted to know how she was doing, he couldn_ _'t risk revealing himself to her. He had no idea how she would react to his condition, and he didn't want the pain of losing her if she accepted him for who and what he was and decided that she wanted a relationship—even a friendship—with him. Nothing, not even his heart, was worth it._

 _ **The Viele, Upper West Side, New York City, Present Day**_

Henry's heart raced as the memories of the entire case flowed past him. How was that possible? How had fate led him back to the same woman whose life he was trying to save? The same woman whose new relationship he had blessed four days later?

His eyes darted back and forth. When he had exhumed Sean's body, Jo had told him that she and Sean had met during the early summer of 2009, and they had married in 2011. Had he….?

The thought forced his mouth open. He had witnessed the start of Jo and Sean's relationship.

He stroked Jo's hair. Perhaps fate knew what it was doing. If he had found her, introduced himself to her, and shared his findings in their case, he would have run the moment that they were threatened again. After all, he, like a coward, had chosen to bury his memories of her instead of staying by her side—and unwittingly allowing her to witness a part of a death—as he had done when they had finally met. There was no way that their relationship could have ever survived that.

The memory of Jo lying on the ground overlapped with Nick's statement about Ryan and Captain Sheridan's argument, Ryan's observations, their break-in, their run-in with Emma, and Jo's remembrance of Captain Sheridan. Henry looked at the door and pulled his lips together. Clearly, either Captain Sheridan or Emma had attacked Dexter here—apparently in the laundry room, judging from the different hardwood grains—and Captain Sheridan had carried Dexter to Summit Rock. Based on Jo's position and their proximity to Kaspar and Rune, Emma would have had ample opportunity to attack them. As for the motive….

Taking care to not disturb Jo, Henry eased her phone out of her pocket, maneuvered his arms around her, and found the messages app, as she had called it when they had taken their selfies. He opened it and haltingly typed out his message to Mike. As he hit the send button, he held his breath. He hoped that his memories of his and Jo's first case together and his deductions would crack this one and would bring Dexter's killer to justice.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Sorry about the initial fake-out. If you've read my stories before, you know that I typically do not let Henry and Jo sleep together the M-rated way until they're married. You can imagine my surprise when I read the first paragraph and saw how close it comes to the Henry and Abigail scene in "The Night in Question".

The massage is one reason why I wanted to write a sequel to "Remember You Must Die and Live". (Henry in jeans and Henry and Jo's first date and first kiss were two more.) When I was writing "Remember You Must Die and Live", it was interesting to see how different Henry is without all of the knowledge he picks up over his long life. I wanted another massage scene where Henry massages Jo's neck with the full knowledge of what can happen if he touches certain spots.

I'm taking a little liberty with Henry's life and Jo and Sean's relationship. As for the sudden change from "Cody" to "Captain Sheridan", I feel that it is appropriate for Henry and Jo to use now that they know Cody's true identity.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note** : So far, Camp NaNoWriMo is going well. I reached the point in the month where I've struggled to write. This time, I got through. (Woo-hoo!) I've added more to the story than I had thought. I have nine days left, and I think I will be able to reach my goal. Finishing this story in the same amount of time fell by the wayside, but my mind apparently is having too much fun with the other.

I hope that you'll enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

Jo blinked her eyes open as the morning sun streamed onto her face. She took a few moments to take in everything and to regain her bearings. She closed her eyes and laid her arm over them. The last thing that she wanted to do was to move. She had overworked her shoulders when she had worked on her scarf yesterday, and she had asked Henry to give her another massage. If she could stay on the sofa for a long while longer, she might be able to avoid destroying the total relaxation that his touch had given her.

Her leg slipped off the sofa and dangled over the edge. Her foot landed on a semi-soft surface before it reached the floor.

The movement jolted her into an awareness of her surroundings. Her hand flew to her mouth. She had almost forgotten about that.

Wanting to see if Henry was okay, she rolled over onto her stomach. Her lips turned up when she spotted him sound asleep on the floor next to her. She brushed the fallen strands of hair back over her ear. She didn't know how he could be comfortable lying like that. He had slept in many odd places over the centuries, but she had always figured that he would be more comfortable in a bed. When she had suggested that he could stay on the sofa with her last night, he had rejected the notion, saying that she could be more comfortable if he wasn't under her.

She bit back her giggle. If she didn't know any better, and she suspected that she was right, she would say that he was trying to keep their relationship traditional for her sake. If it were any other man, she would object to it. With Henry, however, it was insanely romantic to be properly courted by a dashing young-ish man. Or about as properly courted as she could get while living in close quarters with him.

She reached down to him. Her fingers found his scar and traced a gentle, slow path over the ancient wound. Her smile grew wider as she noted how his heart kept its pace under her touch. Over two hundred years had passed since that miraculous day, and she could not imagine her life without him by her side.

Jo's hand paused over the spot where the bullet had entered his chest. _Mi corazon_. The words had slipped off her lips when Henry had to wake her up from the nap that she had taken during his massage a week ago. Somehow, though, they had felt just right for him. When she had told him that he had made her feel again, he didn't know how true that was. Prior to meeting him, she was dead inside. His patience and compassion jump-started her heart and aroused things that she hadn't felt since she had met Sean. Now, if Henry's immortality was taken away as suddenly as fate had given it to him, it would feel as though her own heart was being torn out of her chest.

He turned his head slightly to the side to seemingly face her. She narrowed her eyes. She hadn't noticed it before, but something was familiar about his jawline. Ordinarily, she would argue that she had noticed it when they had gone out for drinks during their first case together. She, however, was sure that she had seen it before then….

" _Miss."_

 _Jo_ _'s eyes landed on a pair of green ones- directly over her. She wrinkled her forehead. She had no idea who he was or where she was at. As far as she knew, he was a date who had been slipped something in her beverage while they had gone out for drinks, and he had taken her home. The only thing that she wanted to do was to get out of his apartment…now._

 _She tried to scramble onto her elbows. A pain cracked her head, and something pierced her arms. She flew back down. She winced when her head landed on something hard, causing a thud to ring out over the room._

 _Panting, she looked around to see where she was. Her heart raced with each bump that she felt under her. No, it couldn_ _'t be. How did she get hurt out in the field?_

 _Her thoughts raced back through her memory. Her eyes darted around the ambulance. She had gone to Kaspar and Rune to follow up on the lead Mabel Everett had given her. Mabel had said that Dexter Chapman, the investigator on the case, had planned to question Emma Rodman, a junior partner, about newly-promoted senior partner Trevor Allen_ _'s mysterious death, but Dexter never had the chance before his own death. Lt. Roarke thought that the detective was wasting her time by continuing the investigation that her superior had just assigned her to the day before. Jo, however, felt that Dexter's widow would be denied justice if she didn't._

 _That, and she had suspected something was up with Lt. Roarke. When she had mentioned that Dexter was their latest victim, Lt. Roarke had acted hesitant about assigning Jo to the case. As Lt. Roarke usually had let her run with her gut instinct, Jo had wondered if someone higher in the ranks or outside the NYPD was pressuring her superior into dropping the case. Since she was operating off-the-record, the only people to know about her suspicions were Lt. Roarke, her boss, and the DA who had agreed to Jo keeping her informed as well_ _. She now had to wonder which of the two outsiders wanted to interfere with her investigation and why._

 _Another pain, this time a headache, slice through her thoughts. She closed her eyes and softly groaned. She seemed to remember something hitting the back of her head, but she wasn_ _'t sure what it was. The next thing that she had known…._

" _What happened?"_

 _The question was directed more at herself than to the two men sitting to her left. The only other memory of the morning had been the strangest thing that she had ever seen. She woke up to a man lying beside her on the sidewalk near the law firm. A well-dressed man with rugged good looks and a strong jawline, if someone were to ask her. He, however, looked like he was dying. She haltingly pushed herself onto her knees and fumbled for her cell phone lying next to his hand. Before she could dial 9-1-1, he took one raspy breath_ _…_

… _his chest grew still…_

… _and he vanished into thin air._

 _As weak as she was, she found the energy to jump back. She stared at the ground where he had laid. She had seen something remotely similar only in her brother's favorite comic books. If she didn_ _'t know any better, she would say that she was dreaming or imagining things. But it was so real. There was no way anyone could convince her otherwise._

 _A glint caught her eye. She blinked, and her jaw fell open when she spotted a golden antique-looking pocket watch lying next to the pipes waiting for the construction crew to return to their work. She reached out to pick it up_ _…._

 _Her body was heavier than she had thought. She eased herself back on the ground and closed her eyes for a moment. She had hoped that, when she got over her weakness, she could find out what had happened to the man and learn more about him._

 _The paramedic to whom she had woken up met her eyes._ _"Miss, we had received a call stating that you were lying unconscious near a construction site. When we arrived, we were expecting to find you dead…."_

"Dead".

 _The word drowned out the rest of the paramedic_ _'s comments. Jo panted, her unfocused gaze darted all over the ambulance. No, it couldn't be. She had nearly died?!_

 _She drew in as much air as she could. She still had a life ahead of her. She wanted to spend as much time with her mother and the rest of her family as she possibly could. She wanted to meet someone special, get married, and have kids. She wanted to bring others the justice that they had been denied when a murder stole their loved ones from them. She wanted to see the Taj Mahal and travel the world. There was no way that she could leave any of that behind._

 _She stared at the ceiling, tears covering her eyes. She shouldn_ _'t have ignored Lt. Roarke's orders to drop the case. Maybe she picked up on the danger that Jo was facing, and she was trying to protect Jo from it. If she had listened to Lt. Roarke's reason instead of her gut instinct…._

 _Her eyes turned to the small window. She tried to take in as much of the passing view as she could. Starting right now, she was going to do everything she could to preserve her life. If she saw that her gut instinct was leading her into trouble—with a suspect or with her superior, it didn_ _'t matter—she was going to ignore it. She was going to follow the book in obtaining the evidence and questioning witnesses. She was going to let the OCME do their jobs and bring the evidence to her unless she was ordered otherwise._

 _And she was going to take Lt. Roarke_ _'s advice and forget about the case. Dexter's widow might spend the rest of her life wondering what had happened to her husband, but it wasn't worth another detective's life to find out who had killed one of their own._

 _Jo caught sight of a pair of trees passing in front of her. As soon as she got out of the hospital, she was going to start living her life as fully as she could. She was going to get serious about finding a husband and starting a family. She was going to spend more time with her family, even making more of an effort to join them for breakfast and dinner. She was going to take the trips she had dreamed about when she saved up enough money for them._

 _The memory of the enigmatic man who had saved her life called to her. It asked her to find him and to talk to him. To see where their connection would go._

 _Jo huffed. She would have to forget him. As much as she wanted to get to know him better and to find out exactly what she had seen, she couldn_ _'t just find him and bring up how they met. He would think that she was crazy. Or wanted to take him away from his life, if what she had seen was a weird superpower. The best thing that she could do was to push him out of her mind and never think of him again. As far as she knew, his life could depend on her ignorance of the truth._

 _The ambulance turned to the right. She could feel the memories of the past couple of days starting to slip away into the deep recesses of her mind. She closed her eyes. If she could get some sleep, the rest of her would feel better_ _…._

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times as the memory faded. Henry had saved her life, and she had witnessed one of his deaths before they had actually met? And he hadn't bolted from New York afterward? Why did he stay?

She thought back to the first time that she had picked up his watch. The way it had laid next to the Russian cellist had pricked something in Jo's mind. She, however, chose to ignore it. Then, she had thought that it was her imagination, but, now, she was sure it was a subconscious memory.

Making sure that she didn't step on Henry, she pushed herself up into a seated position and tucked her feet under her. She ran her hand through her hair. When she had returned to her studio apartment near Alphabet City's southern edge, she had tried to remember what had happened so she could tell Lt. Roarke the next day. Discovering the gap in her memory, she grabbed a pillow and cried while she had confronted the pain and the helplessness about her loss.

Her eyes darted across the room. Had Lt. Roarke really picked up on her memory loss like she had suspected? The lieutenant had a calm but puzzled face when Jo had greeted Dr. Ross' findings on Dexter's death with an aloof "That's good". Jo had tried to keep a cool attitude about it to keep everyone from gossiping about her, but she had worried that Lt. Roarke had caught a glimpse of the memory loss the moment the words left Jo's mouth. She had expected Lt. Roarke would send her to a psychiatrist to talk about it, but, fortunately, the issue never had come up.

Jo scoffed as every detail of her former residence came into focus in her mind. She hadn't thought of that apartment in ages. She had wanted to live close to the people she would patrol, and she had found it right out of the academy. The cozy quarters had been the perfect—not to mention, cheapest—place that she could find on her uni's budget. The neighborhood wasn't that bad either. During an afternoon walk shortly after she had moved in, she had spied a quaint antiques store with a golden ship and lettering on the windows….

Jo's eyes found Henry, and they widened. They had lived that close to each other then, and they had never run into each other. How was that possible?

He started to stir. She lowered herself back onto the sofa. He blinked his eyes open, and she smiled. She would never get tired of seeing his gorgeous brown eyes first thing in the morning.

He pushed himself up, turned to her, and caressed her lips with his. She closed her eyes and deepened the kiss. She would never get tired of this either.

He pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. "Good morning, _cariña_."

"Morning, _mi corazon_." Delighting in his morning breath, she wrapped her fingers around his curls. "How did you sleep last night?"

"Like a rock." He gave her a lopsided grin. "How about you?"

"I don't think I woke up the entire night."

She gazed into his eyes. She would have to tell him about witnessing his death nine years ago soon. He might be pleasantly surprised by it.

Her thoughts during the ambulance ride echoed in her ears. Her heart sank at her vow to forget about him. She broke away from him and looked around the room. She loved their time together, and she didn't want it to end. If she told him what else she remembered….

"What's wrong?"

His dulcet voice called her back to him. She bit her lower lip. He needed to know now.

She summoned her courage and sighed. "I remember why I haven't been able to remember Dexter's death or my investigation into it."

In one fluid motion, he swung onto the sofa, sat next to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Why?"

As she told him what she had remembered, his mouth fell open. Before she knew it, they started to compare notes about they had learned the day before their first encounter. When she reached for her phone to call Mike, she hoped that what they would find a way to bring Dexter's killer to justice without endangering their own lives.

Just like last time, more than one life was at stake. This time, she couldn't afford to lose any of them.

* * *

"How's 'Operation Honeymoon'?"

Mike almost spat out his coffee. He covered his phone's mouthpiece and glanced around the bullpen to see if anyone had seen him. He let loose a sigh of relief as his colleagues milled around the bullpen, oblivious to the sight he had given them.

He rested his head on his hand and rubbed his forehead. "Karen, please tell me that you're alone."

"Mike." He could hear the protest in Karen's voice. "I asked our receptionist to turn away anyone who is looking for me, and I have the door and the blinds closed. With a creepy, psychopathic 2,000-year-old immortal roaming the halls of my workplace in his free time, I'm not taking any chances. Why did you ask?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "You've been a little flighty lately. I—."

She huffed, and he could imagine her leaning over her desk and resting her free arm on the students' papers covering it. "What would you do if you found out that you may not see your best friend ever again?"

Mike lowered his eyes to his desk. If it weren't for the case, he would have been in denial too.

"So, how's 'Operation Honeymoon'?"

He tightened his hold on his phone and eyed it. He needed to ask her why she had decided to name his latest case that. If she was hoping that Jo and Doc's romantic feelings would turn into a raging fire while they were away….

He looked over his shoulder, hoping that no one would overhear them…or saw any redness in his cheeks. "No more news yet. So far, so good, I guess."

His stomach threatened to spill his coffee out of it as the words left his mouth. He hated lying to Karen again. When he had needed to lie about Doc's condition, he had often wondered how long it would be before Karen would believe that he was cheating on her or that he was moonlighting for a corrupt colleague. The moment that Doc had asked if he could come over and discuss his immortality with Karen, Mike had felt the burden of carrying Doc's secret lifting off his shoulders.

Mike glanced down at the grain pattern on his desk and traced it with his finger. How could he break the news that he, Jo, and Doc were in serious danger? That Jo and Doc had almost lost their lives to Dexter's killer nine years earlier? That, if he, Lieu, and Lucas continued to pursue the case, they could face the same fate? Karen had already lost one of her graduate students and a celebrity crush to another murderer two months ago. She didn't need this burden as well.

His mind went back to his earlier thought. He wiped his forehead. Doc and Jo had met through another one of Doc's deaths? In a way, why wasn't he surprised?

Needing a distraction, he thought back to his morning. His wife was in a rare rush this morning, and it wasn't due to their hooligans.

He mirrored the posture that he had imagined Karen taking on the other end of the call. "What are you up to today?"

"Adam's not going to be fooled by Henry's supposed lack of memory for all eternity. I'm planning to see if I could give our favorite immortal more insight into his arch-nemesis. Do you remember when Donnie and Matt asked me about how people knew what New York looked like in the past?"

"Yeah." It was one of the few times that he had seen Doc turn about as white as the sheets covering his corpses. "What about it?"

"Well…." He could see her smiling at the thrill of her hunt. "I was thinking about it and Adam last night. I can use genealogical records, pictures, and newspapers to track him through history. If he's anything like Henry, the crazy old man would have left a paper trail I can follow." She fell silent for a brief moment. "I could ask Abe to help me with the search. It would be a way for him to help his father learn more about the man threatening their family."

"He might be interested." It wouldn't hurt. Abe had already learned that Doc's uncle Dennis' one-night stand had eventually resulted in the younger Morgan. Who knew what his expertise and Karen's sixth sense of history would uncover?

Mike wrinkled his forehead. His wife was uncharacteristically behind the ball on this. "Why haven't you thought of this earlier?"

She huffed. "With end-of-the-term projects, finals, your case, and the two deaths Baruch College had to deal with, I hadn't been able to give it much thought."

Mike looked out at the officers gathering near Jo's desk and weaving their way toward him. Due to his work, he hadn't realized how much was on his wife's shoulders recently. He was definitely going to take her on vacation once the case was over. He had the feeling Karen would need it.

Gavin Hunter suddenly appeared in the bullpen and made his way toward Mike. Mike resisted the urge to get up and to go after the man. If he did, Gavin would know something was up.

The moment that the other detective was out of earshot, Mike turned back to the phone. "Look, Karen, I've got to get back to work. We'll talk about it when I get home."

His heart ached within him. He didn't know what time that would be…or whether he could share what he had learned with her.

"Sounds good." A rustle of papers filled his ear. "Don't forget to pick up milk and cereal on your way home."

He cursed himself. He had almost forgotten about his sons' argument over the last of both at the breakfast table. For a moment, he had thought that he would have to break them apart and ground them before they had left for school.

After telling her how much he loved her and hanging up, he rose from his desk, took a peek in the direction Gavin had walked, and smiled. The coffee and the other detectives should keep Gavin busy with the wait and a discussion about the Yankees' season so far. That would give him time to talk to Lieu before they had to question Gavin.

Mike pointed himself toward Lt. Reece's office. Between Doc's long text—his first one—three days ago and Jo's story this morning, he had learned a lot about their parallel investigations. From what they had told him, Dexter had every reason to be concerned about Trevor's death, and he couldn't blame Jo for being suspicious of Lt. Roarke's interference with the case. He had been working at a different precinct back then, but he could tell that something fishy had happened here.

Placing his hand on Lieu's door, Mike looked back at Jo's desk. All fingers still pointed to either Captain Sheridan or his wife. How were they going to do this without endangering Jo and Doc's lives?

* * *

Mike laid his hand on the interview room's doorknob. Thinking better of it, he spun around and, as much as he could, looked Lucas in the eye. He wanted to stand on his tiptoes to make the eye contact more direct, but it would look ridiculous to anyone catching them.

"Look, you can ask Gavin any logical questions you want. Take a page from Doc's book and stick to the facts." He pointed his finger at the assistant ME. "And, if I hear you mention a word about Doc's condition, I will boot you out of the interview myself. Is that understood?"

Mike swallowed. Lucas had known about Doc's immortality before he did, and, somehow, Lucas had managed to keep it a total secret from him for two years. He hoped that the assistant wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Lucas studied Mike for a moment. "That's it?" He then smiled. "That's Henry's method to an interrogation? I thought that it would be more complex than that." He shifted his weight. "You know, like out of _Perry Mason_ or…."

Mike glared at Lucas, causing the other man to wither back. He urged himself to remain calm. This was the first time that they had to call in their assistant ME to help out with an interview, and he hoped that Lieu knew what she was doing. Lucas had always accompanied Doc out in the field when the detectives weren't allowed to collect evidence, but he wasn't allowed anywhere near the witnesses unless he was in the autopsy room. Mike had preferred to have Abe join them since the younger Morgan could almost rival his father in terms of observation and questioning. Due to the seriousness of the situation, though, he and Lieu had agreed that they should keep Doc's son out of it.

Mike opened the door and stepped into the room. He resisted the urge to smile. Unlike the time when Doc had admitted that he had a stalker who thought he was immortal, Lieu had remembered to close the blinds. Even if it didn't provide as much secrecy as Mike would have liked, it should keep any nosy colleagues away from the room.

He took one side of the table. Out of the corner of his eyes, Lucas took the chair next to him. Mike willed himself to not react. He hoped that Lucas wouldn't do or say something that would give them away.

Gavin's blue eyes darted from Lt. Reece to Lucas and then locked onto his. "Mike, could you tell me what's going on here? I don't understand why you brought me in here."

Mike summoned his courage and folded his hands over the table. "What do you remember about Dexter Chapman?"

Gavin met his eyes. "He was a good man and a good detective. He didn't deserve to die the way he did. I don't know what happened, but…."

"But what?" Lieu's voice nudged Mike's attention to her.

Gavin huffed. "I had to wonder if the job was getting to him. Some days, he took things upon himself more than he should have. I always thought that he would break one day." He leaned forward and mimicked Mike. "Do you know that he and Megan had an argument the day before he died?"

Mike stared at Gavin. Megan and Dr. Ross had mentioned it earlier, but he would hardly call Dexter's refusal to talk and Megan's desire to hear his problems an argument.

He locked eyes with Gavin, hoping his stare would convince Gavin to stick to the facts. "What did you and Dexter talk about on June 21, 2009?" Doc had mentioned the date in the second paragraph of his message.

Gavin narrowed his eyes. "June 21, 2009?" He turned Lt. Reece. "What is he talking about?"

Lieu leveled her gaze at him. "Just answer the question."

Gavin shrank back in his chair. "Dexter and I had been friends ever since he transferred here in 2006. We talked about almost everything." He sighed. "I was getting coffee when I saw him storming out of Lt. Roarke's office. I followed him back to his desk. Before I could ask him what was going on, I heard him whisper, 'What is going on at Kaspar and Rune? Who there could have killed Trevor Allen?' You should have seen his face. He had a distant look on it."

Mike averted his eyes. He had seen Doc's on more than one occasion.

"What happened next?"

Gavin stared at the table. "He looked up and saw me. Wouldn't you know? He jumped and pushed away from his desk. What did I do to offend him?" He removed one hand from the table and moved it to the corner of his eye. "Of course, you can imagine my surprise when I learned about Dexter's death from Mabel, Dennis, Fletcher, and Landry the next day."

"Who?"

Noting Lucas' confusion, Mike thought for a moment and then grimaced. He could have slapped his head. The four detectives and Gavin formed the 11th Precinct's rumor mill. How could he have forgotten that?

He took a deep breath. How had Doc lived with the paranoia? Mike had it for about two and a half weeks, and he was barely surviving. He could not imagine watching over his shoulder for centuries.

He turned to Lucas. "Our version of Drs. Vaughan and Washington downstairs."

Lucas tilted his head back, and his mouth formed an "O". "Gotcha." He looked toward Gavin. "Did you tell anyone what you heard? I would imagine that it was hard to keep it a secret."

Mike froze. Hopefully, Lucas wouldn't say another word. They didn't need to let Doc's secret slip now.

Lucas' words echoed in his head. Mike glanced over his shoulder at the other man. He slightly raised his eyebrows. Who knew that Lucas could ask an intelligent question? He didn't know the guy had it in him.

Gavin turned to each of them. "A couple of days later, I was taking the elevator downstairs. All of a sudden, I heard Dr. Morgan from downstairs ask me what was wrong. I told him that I was thinking about a friend. Somehow, he surmised that I was thinking about Dexter. HIs mind reading was pretty creepy." Gavin shifted in his seat. "Anyway, the elevator opened before I could say anything. We got out. I took one look at him and decided to tell him everything I knew. I mean, it couldn't have hurt. After I finished, I realized that I was going to be late to question a witness in my current case. I excused myself and left him."

Mike nodded. Doc had said about that much.

Gavin threw his hands up. "I swear. I was worried about Dexter, but I didn't do anything to hurt him." He looked at them. "And I certainly didn't do anything to hurt Dr. Morgan. I…."

"What do you mean by you hurting Dr. Morgan?" Lucas' uncharacteristically raised tone almost made Mike jump. "You didn't…."

Mike spun around and shot a look at their mutual friend. Fortunately, Lucas closed his mouth and readjusted his hands in front of him.

Gavin stared past him. "You don't think I haven't noticed that he hadn't been here for two and a half weeks? Everyone has, and rumors are flying. The last time that he was gone this long, Ben Wilds told me that Dr. Morgan had apparently killed someone in self-defense. I'm hoping, this time, he and Jo had taken off for a long romantic vacation."

Mike glanced down and studied the table's surface. He had chased Ben away from Doc when the other detective had wanted more details about Doc killing Clark Walker. He couldn't see how his colleague could insist on questioning Doc while he was still in shock.

Sensing that Gavin had told them everything that he knew, Mike looked to Lieu. She gazed into the distance.

A moment later, she looked at him. "You can go. We would appreciate it if you were to keep this quiet. We don't want anyone to find out about our conversation." She studied him. "If this yields anything, we would let you know."

Gavin pushed himself out of his seat, eased around them, and exited the room. Pivoting toward Lieu, Mike peeked over his shoulder at Lucas. He was surprised. He didn't realize how good the man was at questioning. Maybe they should include him more often.

He looked past Lieu for a moment. "Gavin seemed worried about Dexter."

Lieu met his eyes. "He confirmed everything that Henry had texted us."

Lucas gasped. "Henry sent his first text?! When?!"

Lieu's eyes grew soft. "A week ago. We couldn't talk to Gavin about it since he had decided to take his vacation the day before."

"Oh, I see." Lucas leaned forward. "Can I see?"

Mike fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Lucas. "Jo needs to teach Doc how to use a word processor."

He looked at Lieu and rested his head on his index finger and thumb. "How do we go about this? I don't see any good way to continue this investigation."

Lieu glanced down. "I don't know." She nodded to Doc's spellbound assistant. "Lucas."

"I couldn't type this well when I first learned to text. His hen-pecking is really good." He lifted his head. "What?"

Lieu folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. "What would you do if your secret and your life were in danger, and it could cost others their lives?"

He set the phone in front of him and stroked his chin. "I would run. Get as far away from the people threatening my life as I can. Hope that, if the criminal isn't caught, I can outlive them."

HIs face fell, and he crossed his arms. "You're not thinking about sending Henry, Jo, and Abe away, aren't you?"

As Lucas protested, Mike's stomach whirled. He couldn't believe it. Even with all the precautions that they were taking, Doc and Jo would still have to leave New York behind forever.

He reached for his phone and stared at it. How was he going to tell Karen?

Lieu caught his eyes. She gave him a small smile. If she hoped that it would reassure him, it wasn't working for the moment.

"We're not going to let that happen. Not if we can help it."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I'm using Jo's comment about her work in Alphabet City in "The Pugilist Break" as a springboard for another of Jo's old neighborhoods. Her "that close" comes from Abe's comment about the distance between the shop and Union Station, where Fawn lives, in "The Man in the Killer Suit".

For the sake of the story, Mike doesn't know that Lucas poses as Henry in "Best Foot Forward". The only people to know what Lucas does are Abe, Henry, Jo, and Lt. Reece.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note** : Sorry for this being late. I was in the middle of Camp NaNo, which was a success. Then, the week before Mother's Day hit me weirdly, and it took about three days to get everything out on paper. (I'm feeling better.) So, I hadn't gotten around to posting this chapter until now. I hope that you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

Henry tugged on the bottom of the dress shirt that he had pulled out of his closet and tucked it into his pants. Once his belt was secured, he stepped over to the mirror to check his appearance. Staring back at him was a man whom he almost didn't recognize.

His heart sinking, he swallowed. He had grown accustomed to the youthful image reflecting back at him daily. Going back to his usual casual style was almost like traveling back to the early 19th century, knowing that he would never return to the present. If it weren't Jo spotting a pair of tomato stains from breakfast, he wouldn't have needed leave his comfort behind.

He glanced over at the hamper in the closet and rolled up his sleeves. This situation was fixable. Jo had just swapped her laundry over, and he had come into the room to retrieve his dirty load. As soon as he gathered his clean clothes, he could slip into a polo shirt again.

He took another glance in the mirror. Then again, maybe not. His casual style wasn't too bad. It had suited Abe and Mike—and, for two weeks, him—for daily wear, and Mike was almost as old as the immortal had claimed to be. Perhaps he could wear it out in public more often when the weather and the occasion would allow him.

Henry snatched the hamper off the floor, pushed the door open, and swung into the living room. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jo sat on the sofa, intent on her knitting. Peeking at her progress, he smiled. It was coming along quite nicely. From the appearance of things, it would be as long as his scarves before they knew it.

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, he strolled to the laundry room and started his load. According to the calendar, their two-month anniversary was coming up in five days, and he wanted to do something special for it. They had almost exhausted their options locally, and he preferred to not repeat a visit to any of the locations. Maybe she would enjoy a night at home, with a nice home-cooked meal, some flowers from the grocery store, and a night of dancing.

A golden light glinted in his eye. He glanced down, and his lips parted. How was it possible for him to forget about that? He had never worn his wedding band for this type of work.

He strolled out of the room. Catching her eyes, he gave Jo a lopsided grin.

She furrowed her forehead. "What is it?"

He showed her his hand. "I forgot to pull this off."

She grinned at him. "When you get done with your clothes, I need to make you my victim."

His eyes widened. Before he could object, she pulled the scarf out to its full length and displayed it to him. It wasn't in his preferred fabric, but her creation looked as luxurious as the ones in Paul Stuart.

Henry squinted at her and nodded. "I'll hurry."

With a smile and a wink, he re-entered his bedroom. He pulled off his wedding ring and started to set it on the end table. It slipped out of his fingers, fell to the floor, and rolled under the bed.

"Nuts!" He hissed.

Henry swallowed and dove onto the floor after the rogue ring. This was embarrassing. He had dropped it down the kitchen sink once before, and Abigail's laugh had echoed in his ears when he called the plumber to retrieve it out of the pipes. After the incident, he had vowed to never do it again. He had somehow managed to keep his promise to himself until the day that he had reluctantly removed his band to signify Abigail's absence in his life. Although their arrangement was temporary, he had found himself making the same promise again when he had slipped the ring on for Jo's sake.

He reached under the bed and felt around, longing to feel the smooth, cold metal between his fingers again. After a few minutes, his index finger landed in the ring's hole. His lips parting for joy, he slid it out of its hiding spot and dragged it toward him. He plucked it off the ground. Holding it up to the light, he breathed out a sigh of relief. For a couple of minutes, he had thought that he would never see it again.

As he turned to set his prize in its proper place, the hardwood floor flooded the corner of his eye. He quickly set the ring on the end table and pivoted back to the ground.

Henry furrowed his forehead. He hadn't noticed it before, but the floor's grain and color were different from the rest of the apartment's flooring. And it was certainly different from the laundry room's flooring. He had originally believed that the laundry room was their only renovated area, but now….

Wanting to confirm his theory, he crawled back toward the door and peeled back the accent rug. He gulped. It was just as he feared.

He ran a hand through his hair and huffed. There were only two ways that he could see the floor being replaced. He could rule out water damage. The bedroom was nowhere near a water source and the window's glass was identical to the rest of the apartment's windows. That meant….

His heart pounding against his chest, he pushed himself off the floor. He took another glance at the wood and eased out of the room. He had never imagined that he would leave his life in New York behind in this manner.

He huffed. He hated to bring the matter up with Jo again. With her remembering how close she had come to becoming one of either Captain Sheridan's or Emma's victims, though, he hoped that she would understand.

He tapped her on the shoulder. She gazed into his eyes, and he found the courage he desperately needed.

"What?"

His eyes roamed hers. "I need you to look at something." He took a glance at her knitting needles. "Bring your needles along."

Jo dropped her work onto the sofa and slipped the yarn off the needles. "What's going on?"

She quickly joined his side. He gestured to the ground. "Do you notice anything unusual about my floor?"

"N—." She tilted her head and studied it. A moment later, she looked back to the living room and the laundry room.

She pointed at the floor. "This isn't a herringbone pattern, and it's not the same wood." She then directed her finger back at the laundry room. "And the laundry room's floor looks newer than this one. I noticed it when we first moved in, but I didn't want to ruin our mood."

"Same here." He nodded. "I'm sure that the flooring in the main rooms of the apartment is the original flooring. Black cherry darkens as it ages whereas oak and bamboo, like in the rest of the apartment, don't."

Jo met his eyes. "This is our crime scene." She dropped her eyes to her needles. "Why did you want me to bring them?"

"I was hoping to use one in lieu of the weapon in Dexter's murder."

She separated the needles and spun one between her fingers. "Want me to come charging at you with it?"

He tilted his head. In a way, Jo's needles almost looked like the hat pin he had been stabbed with over a century before. "What size needles are they? And what metal are they?"

"They're nine millimeters steel needles."

The moment the words left her mouth, their eyes traveled to it and back to each other. Their lips parted.

"If Emma had enough upper body strength, she would be just as likely to kill Dexter as Captain Sheridan." Jo thumbed the needle's sharp tip. "This is the murder weapon."

Henry stared at the shining object. "Why hadn't I thought of that years ago?"

"Abigail didn't knit?"

He shook his head. "She had no interest in it. She had always hoped that she would develop a desire to pick it up, but it never came."

Henry dropped his eyes to the floor. Imagining the scenario, he huffed. He wished that his findings hadn't pointed to a definite suspect.

He set his hand on his hip and leaned against the wall. "Emma's hand grip suggests that she wouldn't have possessed the adequate strength to thrust a sharp object into Dexter's chest." He found Jo's eyes. "That would mean Captain Sheridan…."

Jo gulped. "We need to inform Lt. Reece."

He gulped. He hoped that his unofficial superior would not suggest that they and Abe were to leave New York behind indefinitely. He wouldn't know what to do if she was adamant that it was their only solution.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. He followed the hand back to its owner. Jo gave him a small smile.

"Want to do something to take our minds off everything afterward?"

He mulled her question over for a moment and nodded. Would he ever?

* * *

Henry took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his nerves as he and Jo strolled arm-in-arm toward the National Museum's steps. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have agreed to leave their apartment given their circumstances. Due to a lack of concrete evidence against Captain Sheridan, Lt. Reece had instructed them to stay in New York, Jo's suggestion of a trip away from home to distract themselves was just the perfect cure for a set of nerves. Still, he couldn't help but to think that the 11th Precinct's head of the homicide division would be tempted to invade their privacy again while they were away.

As the word "home" registered, he startled and stared at her. Since when had he begun to consider his life with Jo home? He had always believed that their living arrangement was a temporary measure. How…?

She turned back to him, smiled, and met his eyes. "Do you remember when we first came here?"

Her warmth drained the tension away from him. Grinning, he pulled her closer to him as they reached the bottom step. "You called me your partner for the first time. At the time, I had believed that our professional positions had forbidden a more casual relationship, but you showed me otherwise."

She giggled and nudged him with her shoulder. "You can be such a Mr. Darcy at times."

He opened his mouth and stared at her. "I beg to differ. I bear absolutely no resemblance to Miss Austen's character in terms of appearance or personality." And he certainly bore no resemblance to the cad Jonathan D'Arcy, whose attempt to capture Elizabeth Norton's attention had prompted him to consult _Daphnis and Chloe_ for clues into the feminine psyche.

Jo stopped, cupped his face with her free hand, and brought it close to hers. Although the day had become warm and sunny, a small shiver flowed from her hand to the rest of his body. He blinked once to shove back the more passionate thoughts emerging from his mind.

"Keep telling yourself that." Grinning, she released him and tapped him on the chest with the back of her hand.

Taking her back in his arms, Henry studied her. His objections faded from his mind, and he gave her a lopsided grin. How had he fallen so deeply in love with her so soon? It felt like only yesterday when they had first declared their love for each other.

Their first nine months of working together flashed before him, followed by his confession in her car when she had brought him home from Aubrey Griffin's townhouse. He drew his breath in. They had gone from partners to friends to very special people before he had known it. When they had met, if someone were to tell him that he would fall very deeply in love with her, he would have denied that it would ever happen to him.

He scoffed at his thought. He had known that his feelings for her had run very deep then, but he hadn't noticed exactly how intense they were. If he had merely cared about her like he had claimed, he wouldn't have become jealous of another man receiving her affection. Or imagined whisking her to the City of Lights himself when she had mentioned it as a destination for a romantic vacation with said other man. Or crossed the moral lines that he had when he had believed Adam had endangered her life. Somehow, his love for her then was more of an unfathomable ocean than a shallow pond.

They entered the lobby. He steered Jo toward the spacious, Grecian-style atrium. His eyes found the chandelier hanging under the pyramid-shaped sunlight and traveled to the spot where he had twice stood.

" _This may be rash." Maintaining his eye contact with her and hoping that she was of the same mind, Henry dropped to one knee and took Abigail's hands. "I don't know what the future holds, but, as long as I'm alive, I will always love you. Forever. Will you marry me?"_

He blinked back the memory and stared at the spot, hoping that the pair of patrons conversing with themselves near the Gloria Carlyle Gallery wouldn't find his behavior odd. Since his and Jo's investigation into Gloria's death, he had thought of that moment only once before during his now-numerous visits to the museum. Why was he thinking of it now?

Jo's hand rubbed his back. "That good memory still painful?"

Henry smiled at her. "Not as much as it used to, thanks to you."

He twirled her around to face him, drew her to his chest, and rested his chin on her shoulder. It hadn't since she had talked him into facing the fear of his grief overwhelming him. Her appeal to his curiosity and his sense of justice and her subsequent reveal of similar feelings about her and Sean's favorite Chinese restaurant had breathed new life into the memory and had encouraged him to keep his and Abigail's impossible love story alive. Even it was to share it with their son and with another woman he loved.

Feeling Jo's heart beating in time to his, he shook himself out of his thoughts. In spite of his reluctance, he had suggested that they come here for a while. After their move, he had wanted to bring her to the museum, but other pleasures had absorbed their attention. Now, though, would be the perfect time to do it.

He leaned over until his lips almost rested against her ear. "Want to see what Abe had been working on while everything went sideways?"

She pulled him so close to her that it almost disoriented him. "Lead the way."

Guiding her to the hallway on their left, he smiled. There was no other person with whom he would rather share his son's "extra special" project. Sure, he could had showed it off to any of his other friends, and one of them likely had already viewed it without his knowledge. Yet, he knew that Jo would appreciate it as one of Abe's labors of love, and she would be as proud of him as he was.

They wove their way through the narrow passage until it opened into a large, empty exhibit. He quickly found the large steering wheel and the replica of _The Empress of Africa_ in the center of the room. He took in a deep breath. How many times had the ship altered his life? When he had nervously boarded it, he had never dreamed that he would live to see the 21st century. And he certainly hadn't dreamed that, one day, it would give the woman he loved a major clue about his supernatural nature.

"Abe didn't work on all of this by himself."

Henry blinked his way out of his thoughts. Taking a moment to retrace their conversation's path, he chuckled and bowed his head.

"He didn't." He pointed to Abe's contribution. "Just that portion."

She nudged him toward the panels on the far wall. He peered at her. Almost none of the other women in his life had been as curious about his distant past. Abigail had inquired about it, but not to the extent that Jo had. It was almost as if _everything_ about him fascinated her.

Jo finally stopped in front of the panel detailing the slave revolt aboard _The Empress_. As she studied it, he took in a deep breath. It had been over two hundred years since that fateful night. Although he had survived it, there were times when he stood in awe at the miraculous event that had unfolded the moment he had decided to tend to his patient. Like he had now.

"These are…" She whispered. She turned back to him. "Abe and Isaac had worked on this together, haven't they?"

Henry shoved his free hand in his pocket and nodded. "Isaac had thought I would had been interested in the project since he knew of my fascination with the ship. I was out in the field at the time, so he asked Abe. I found out about it a month ago."

She bobbed her head several times and scoffed. "Admittedly, it's a little weird to think of your son and my ex-boyfriend working together…."

"But…?"

She caressed his cheek again. "It's sweet of Abe at the same time. I know how much this meant to him." A soft smile graced her face.

Her eyes left his. She craned her head around his neck. "Who do you recognize in the other panel?"

He turned around to see what she meant. Walking her over to it, he examined the faces. "King George III, William Pitt, and William Wilberforce, for sure." He gently pushed back the memories of the parliamentarian who had sat several pews ahead of the Morgan family during his short time in Clapham. He could share some of them with her later. "Thomas Buxton and Samuel Hanbury crafted an excellent porter. Too bad Thomas' modernization of the brewery ruined the taste." He pointed to a small group in the lower right corner of the panel and lowered his voice. "I remember Mother and Father talking about attending the Clapham Sect's meetings when I was a child."

Jo locked eyes on him. "You were eavesdropping on your parents?" She grinned at him.

"In my defense, I couldn't help it." His voice chirped slightly louder than he had intended. "My parents…."

"Henry?"

Henry froze at the echoing voice tugging at the deep recesses of his mind. He reviewed the placement of the exits and swallowed. They were too deep in the exhibit to leave without the man's notice. Henry hoped that, in ignoring him, the other man would drop any plans to harm him and Jo and leave them be.

The voice's familiarity broke loose. His eyes widened. He hadn't heard that voice in years.

He spun around, stepping over to Jo's side. His jaw fell open. The man before them had a few more wrinkles and more white hair than when Henry had last seen him, but the gentleman looked almost unchanged by time's passage.

"Dr. Ross?" He didn't care his American accent had dropped in his surprised excitement. He had never thought that he would ever run into his mentor again.

Dr. Ross extended his hand and enclosed it around Henry's. "With you, it's Talbert." He looked over at Jo, and his mouth opened. "Detective Martinez?"

She smiled and took his hand. "It's good to see you again."

The older looking man pointed from one to the other. "Are you two married to each other?"

Henry fumbled for his words. Jo snapped her head toward him, her mouth opening and closing several times.

He swallowed. He hated lying to his mentor. He wished that he could tell him the full truth. Yet, their lives depended on the man's ignorance of the true nature of their circumstances.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to share a few details with Dr.—Talbert. He had confided a few things about his past and about Abe to the man, and Talbert had kept the matters between them. Henry doubted that Talbert would break his trust by sharing the information to anyone who wished to harm him.

Henry finally found his tongue and happily sighed. "We've been dating for almost two months. Dr. Washington's incompetence kept us apart for about a month, but we made up for lost time over the past three weeks."

Talbert grinned at them and clapped his hand on Henry's shoulder. "That's great! I've heard that you've found someone special, but I didn't know that it was her." He turned back to her. "You've found yourself an excellent man."

Jo leaned against Henry and laid her hand on his chest. Her fingers grazed his scar. "He certainly is."

His eyes traveled between Talbert and Jo. "How are you two acquainted with each other?"

He kicked himself at his question. She knew him from Dexter's death. Why…?

Jo snuggled closer to him, her warmth asking him to drop the question. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No sooner than he had, his mind acquiesced to her request.

Talbert nodded toward her. "She frequently came by the autopsy room when you ran the samples from our victims to the lab. I have to admit, every time she checked up on our leads, I had hoped that you would get back before she left so I could introduce the two of you." He found Jo again. "I don't know why, but your intelligence and your curiosity always made me think of him every time I saw you…and not in a professional way. I'm glad you two finally found each other."

Henry studied Talbert and then a very surprised Jo. He opened his mouth. His and Jo's paths had crossed _that many_ times? How could that be possible?

He dared to look at his mentor. Remembering the man's sudden appearance, Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. "What brings you here?"

Talbert set a hand on his hip and chuckled. "Samantha had the day off. We thought that we would come here to get away from everything. We noticed you when you first came in. I had thought that I recognized you, but you were too far away to be sure."

Henry took the words in and bowed his head. They had noticed him getting lost in his memory. Obviously, Talbert….

The memories of the case flowed in front of Henry's eyes. He slowly pulled away from Jo, reached one hand behind his head, and shoved the other inside his pocket. His hand found his pocket watch and caressed it. His heart sank as the cold, smooth metal chilled his fingertips. He wished that he hadn't let go of Jo.

He met Talbert's eyes and huffed. "I made a mistake in one of our cases."

"What do you mean?"

Henry peered back at this girlfriend. She migrated over to the glass cases containing the artifacts that Isaac and Rick Rasmussen had found. "Do you remember if Jo had called you to tell you that she was not coming when we were investigating Dexter Chapman's death?" It would strengthen Jo's testimony should their case miraculously go to trial.

Talbert threw his hand up. "You know I can't talk about an open investigation. All that I can say is that the detective working on it and his superior had asked me about it almost a month ago. I told them everything that I could remember, but I have to admit I'm not sure if I've helped them much."

Henry cursed himself. He had almost sabotaged Mike and Lt. Reece's work.

He bowed his head and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "You're right. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Talbert twisted a couple of times and then peered over his shoulder at Jo for a moment. Before Henry could ask what the other man was thinking, his mentor laid his hand on Henry's shoulder and directed him toward a corner. When they had arrived, Talbert locked eyes with him.

"Is this about your scar?" The air conditioner popped on and roared over Talbert's voice. "The detective and lieutenant who visited me had mentioned that you were in danger. I thought that their investigation could be connected to it."

"My what?" He had not heard that right. "How…?"

"Do you remember when you stripped down to your underwear to reach one of the bodies inside the car the patrol officers had discovered in the East River, and I had to talk the NYPD out of arresting you on the spot?"

Henry scoffed. "How can I forget?" They had worked on a few cases before then, and Talbert had been encouraging him to talk about himself. After that moment, Henry had decided that he shouldn't fear the other medical examiner's opinion of him, and he had started talking to him about his life.

Just like he had with Jo.

Henry swallowed. She had taken the news of his immortality pretty well. He had no idea how Talbert would respond to the truth.

"I don't see how…."

Talbert set both hands on his shoulders and lowered his voice. "I've worked as a forensic pathologist for twenty-five years. I've lost count of the number of people with chest wounds where your scar is located and of how many drowning victims we've found in the East River. I've felt what's under your scar." He leveled his gaze at Henry. "That means one of two things. One: Your scar is a very good fake, but I don't know why you would choose to wear it. Or how it and you survived the river's currents. Two: You're somehow immortal, you're probably older than me, and you've been in those waters on more than one occasion before we've met. I've chosen the latter. It sounds absolutely crazy, but it's the only explanation that makes sense."

Henry's eyes widened, and his jaw fell open. "You knew this entire time?" He blinked. "You never mentioned anything about it."

Talbert released him and chuckled. "Samantha was into _She-Ra, Princess of Power_ when she was younger. When I made the discovery the day I saw your scar, my mind went back to it. I assumed that you had your reasons for keeping it a secret, and I knew I had to respect your wishes." He gave Henry a small smile. "And don't worry. I didn't tell the pair of investigators anything about it. I made it out like I didn't know how you arrived at your conclusions."

Henry stared at Talbert. How was it possible for him to keep his knowledge a secret for so long? And how was it possible for Talbert to keep it a secret from _him_?

Talbert pointed behind him. "Does De—does Jo know?"

Henry bobbed his head and grinned. "I told her three years ago. She then used everything that I had told her about myself during our first nine months of working together to interview me about my life. It turns out I had left quite a few clues for her to follow, and she had already figured out so much of the truth before she had arrived on my doorstep with an incriminating photo of me in the past."

Talbert considered it for a moment. "You need to come over one day and tell me your life story. I would like to hear it."

"I will." He wished he could.

" _Is this about your scar?"_

Henry bowed his head and studied his feet. Talbert deserved the truth. After all, the picture that Lt. Reece had found on her desk had contained his image as well. He should be informed in case Captain Sheridan were to threaten him as well. If Lt. Reece said anything about it, he could ask her what she would have done in his place.

He peered at Jo as she walked toward _The Empress_ ' steering wheel and model. He found his courage and turned back to the doctor.

He sighed. "This isn't about my scar. Someone used one of the crime scene photos from Dexter's death to threaten Jo. Although we're sure that they had threatened me as well, there is a chance that you could be in danger. We had to go into hiding to ensure our safety."

He swallowed. He hoped that he didn't just endanger Talbert's and Samantha's lives as well. Even if he was acquainted with the young woman through Talbert's stories, he wouldn't forgive himself if something were to happen to her because of him.

Talbert shifted his weight on his feet before meeting his gaze. "I appreciate you letting me know. I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

Talbert startled and checked the time. "I would love to stay and talk to you more. Samantha wanted to stay at the Gloria Carlyle Gallery for a while longer. She's been puzzling over how a Costa painting wound up among the Degas and Monets. We're supposed to meet up with each other in a couple of minutes."

"I won't keep you waiting." He would do the same if Abe were to wish for more time somewhere.

Talbert turned again to Jo. He then leaned forward until his face was close to Henry's.

"Don't let Jo go." The other medical examiner whispered. "She's good for you."

He turned around and almost came face-to-face with Jo. "It was good seeing you two again." He turned back to Henry. "I expect you to take me up on my offer. I'm living in Morningside Heights for the time being. West 115th and Broadway."

Henry pushed back his worry and smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

As Talbert left, Jo sauntered over to him and smiled. 'Did you two enjoyed your reunion?"

Henry scratched the back of his head and scoffed. "He knew about my condition all this time, and he didn't tell me that he knew."

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. "How…?"

Before he could say a word, a couple strolled into the room. He wrinkled his nose. "I'll tell you later."

He opened his arm. "Have you seen everything that you wanted to see here?"

She nodded and wrapped her arm around him. "Yeah, I have. Abe did a great job on selecting everything for the exhibit."

She leaned over until her breath tickled his ear. "I'm glad that he and Isaac found a replica of your gun. The story would have been incomplete without it."

When she met his eyes, his lips parted. How could she see him so fully? She was just his girl—.

He stared at her. He no longer had the desire to call her his girlfriend. If anything, she felt more like a….

Their fellow attendees' voices sliced through the air. Henry shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn't think about that now. As far as he knew, Jo wasn't on the same page as him. He couldn't risk getting his heart broken if she was content with the current nature of their relationship.

Needing a distraction, he focused on the exit. They still hadn't explored the rest of the museum.

He nudged her shoulder. "Why don't we check out the rest of the museum?"

"Okay."

As they started for the hallway, Henry's mind rolled through his and Talbert's conversation. He snorted. He didn't know why, but he was sensing that his relationship with Jo was changing…

…and his life wouldn't be the same when the transformation was complete.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I'm getting Henry's usual causal style from the Pilot, "Look Before You Leap", "The Pugilist Break" (to an extent), and "The Wolves of Deep Brooklyn". The floor's grains are from "All about Hardwood Floors" on the _This Old House_ 's web site. _She-Ra, Princess of Power_ , an animated sci-fi/fantasy series about a super-powered freedom fighter who is really a long-lost princess from a different planet, aired on Saturday mornings from 1985 until 1987. (Netflix rebooted it in 2018.)

The "only once before" when Henry remembers proposing to Abigail is from the end of "The Art of Murder". Henry's comments about Jo's discovery of the truth is not a contradiction of anything I've written here or in "Remember You Must Die and Live". In the other story, Abe implies that Jo figures out the truth to an extent during Season 1 and that Henry confesses he's immortal before she mentions her suspicions or any additional evidence of his condition. Henry's comments here confirms that.

I frequently write Henry as living in Clapham until he starts his college education. (Creative liberties with the source material.) William Pitt was the British prime minister from 1783 to 1801 and from 1804 until his death in 1806. William Wilberforce, one of Clapham's most famous resident and founder of the Clapham Sect, lived there from 1792 until 1797 and attended Holy Trinity Church during his stay. (I've taken some liberties with the Morgan family's religious beliefs. Since the sect comprised of wealthy Anglican merchants and several political leaders, it made sense for the Morgans to be Anglican in this context. Plus, taking some liberties here, Henry's uncle Dennis Longsworth embarrasses them into attending church to keep from being mentioned in an unflattering way in _The Gentleman's Magazine_.) Abolitionist Thomas Buxton-1st Baronet Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton-and his uncle Sampson Hanbury ran the Black Eagle brewery from 1808 until his death in 1845.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note** : This scene had to be cut from the previous chapter. Chapter 18 had become longer than I had anticipated when I was writing it. (Thanks, Dr. Ross, for that revelation about knowing your assistant ME's immortal. XD) Anyways, I needed to include the conversation in the first part, so it was best to split the scene off into its own chapter. The rest of the chapter wrote itself. I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Their relationship was moving fast. Far faster than he had expected.

Henry huffed while he stripped his bed of its blanket and top sheet. Then again, he and Jo hadn't moved as quickly as Mr. Wilberforce had with Barbara Ann Spooner. Their eight-day romance and one and a half month-long engagement had wagged Londoners' tongues in ways that the Kardashian clan whose lives his colleagues constantly discussed did today. Falling in love with Jo over the past four years was more like a snail's pace compared to the whirlwind courtship his former neighbor had pursued.

He dropped onto the nearly bare mattress, leaned forward, and wiped his face. Still, during much of that time, he had refrained from acting on his feelings for her. Abe's discovery of Abigail's whereabouts had stopped all thought of taking Jo by the hand, bringing her to the upstairs apartment, and packing before leaving for Paris that night. His fear for her safety, whether at the hands of Adam or of one of her suspects, had almost obliterated any desire to see where a first date with her would take them. In addition, over the course of an entire month, Dr. Washington's gross incompetence had dampened his hope of asking her if she would be interested in a night out on the town. As much as he wanted to see what a relationship with her would look like, fate had seemed content to let him admire her from a distance until almost recently.

Needing a distraction, he gazed out the window. A trace of orange-yellow light from the streetlight below streaked up his window, taking care not to obstruct his view of the city. A white patch from the full moon peeked out from among the darkened trees. A car's somewhat muffled alarm filled his room, followed by the klaxon of a fire engine racing uptown. If he wanted to ensure that he would get any sleep at all tonight, he had better get going.

He bundled his linens and pillow in his arms and headed for the door. Craning his neck around to see better, he groped the air until he found the knob. He enclosed his fingers around it and pulled the door open. He bit his lower lip, spun himself around, and eased past the threshold.

As the door swung back toward him, Henry pirouetted to face the sofa. He heaved a sigh of relief. So far, Jo hadn't claimed it yet. She had avowed that she was checking out the rest of the apartment again to reassure herself that Captain Sheridan hadn't touched or taken any of their possessions while they had been gone. Based on her quick glances at the door while checking the kitchen and his room, he couldn't help but to think that she desired to spend the night elsewhere as well.

He dropped the bedding onto the coffee table, found his top sheet, and tugged it out from among its companions. He shook out the sheet and spread it out over the sofa's cushions. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, he tucked the corners under the cushions the way he had been taught in basic training during World War II.

His thoughts rolled back to the ones he had leaving the exhibit on slavery and human trafficking at the museum. He hadn't felt this way since Abigail had fled from her insecurities about their apparent age difference. His brief liaisons had permitted him to feel semi-human again and had dulled the pain of his loneliness temporarily. With Molly, he had discovered that his capability to care for another woman had not disappeared along with Abigail. His relationships with his two girlfriends had shown him that his heart still contained plenty of room for someone else in his life.

But Jo….

Henry plucked his pillow off the coffee table and propped it up against one arm of the sofa. Jo had seen him for who he was when they had first met. Over the next nine months, she had coaxed him to come out from behind the walls which he had constructed to protect his-wounded heart from rejection and betrayal. When he had finally revealed his immortality to her, her ready acceptance of his condition and her compassion upon him had assured him that he was safe with her. The next three years had slowly convinced him that she was worth living for. That she was worth fighting for. That she was worth sacrificing his life in New York for….

His last thought echoed in his mind. He found his blanket and spread it out over his new bed. What would their life together look like if they were to leave here? If they had to flee New York? He had….

The door behind him creaked open. He turned in time to see Jo emerging from her bedroom.

"It looks like Captain Sheridan didn't mess with anything." She huffed. "Then again, maybe he was more careful than he was last time."

Henry pulled his lips together. He had to agree. Like last time, nothing was missing. Unlike that night, nothing was out of place. If they were to tell anyone about what had happened, the other person would believe that he and Jo were being paranoid.

She met his eyes and raised her eyebrows. "Why are you taking the sofa?"

A moment later, her eyes widened, and she shaped her lips into an "o". He nodded his confirmation.

She found his gaze again. "You are really freaked out by the idea of sleeping where a murder has been committed." She tilted her head. "You're welcomed to join me in my bedroom. I never minded when we bunked together in Paris and Brussels."

He rolled his tongue in his mouth as he stepped into those moments in their past. He should take her up on her offer. He had been as comfortable on her hotel room floor as he was when he had slept by her side or on the floor beside the sofa as of late. And the two times that she had lain her head in his lap after a massage….

He closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the sofa, his fingers digging into his sheet. Man, that memory was distracting.

Once the sensation passed, he dared to open his eyes again. The images from the past month flowed before him. Carrying her over the threshold. Reciting Sonnet 116 while spending a few minutes with her at the Delacourt Theater. Stealing the cherry tomatoes for their salad when they had prepared their first lunch after their move. Losing himself while she stroked the back of his head, both at the film festival and several times afterward. The air in the apartment warming whenever he caught her checking out his damp, bare torso after a shower. Finding himself increasingly unwilling to leave her side every night. Losing himself in her glowing brown eyes and finding himself longing to caress her lips with his again numerous times since their first one. The way their bodies reacted to the other's touch. In each moment of physical intimacy, he had drunk in his pleasure until he was intoxicated….

" _Henry, love can be a very intoxicating feeling. Its consuming flame will render a gentleman devoid of reason before he acknowledges it. When driven by only his passions, he may act in ways which give his lover the expectation of marriage. It is why a gentleman must always treat a member of the fairer sex with the utmost respect, especially in courtship. He must never lead her to believe that he is merely interested in making feet for children's stockings or that he finds the prospect of marriage frivolous. He must always weigh her qualities against what he desires in a help-meet. And he must always permit his reason to guide his conduct accordingly."_

Henry blinked back his father's instructions while trying to convince him that it would have been best if he had put off marriage until he was older. This was the 21st century, and lovers were no longer required to maintain a proper emotional distance from each other to guarantee a successful courtship. If anything, he had jettisoned that notion out of his mind in 1945 when he and Abigail had realized their new London apartment had only one bedroom…which had needed to serve as Abe's nursery as well.

He flopped onto the sofa, and his eyes traced Jo's face. He huffed. This was harder than he thought. He wanted to rip his bedding off the sofa and carry them to her room. Yet, his father's words echoing in his head was as frustrating as Abe's pair of interruptions which had set Abigail's and Jo's discoveries of his condition into motion. He wished that, for once, his father's voice would shut up for the time being.

Henry wiped his sweaty palms over his bare legs, the bottom of his hands brushing his boxer-briefs with each pass. Admittedly, his father had a point. He had been far too focused on his own pleasure, and he had not given much thought as to whether Jo's qualities matched what he wanted in a modern wife. When he had begun to think of Abigail in that manner, he had been rather quick in discovering how her qualities had suited him. With Jo, the only time that his thoughts had traveled in that direction had been when she had held Armen Aronov's grandson in her arms. And his ruminations hadn't lasted long as Jo's question about his knowledge of children when he and Abigail had had none had once again stirred Nora's betrayal and Adam's certainty about Jo's changed feelings toward him once she had learned more about him.

Sensing Jo's patient wait for his response, he scooted toward the arm of the sofa with his pillow against it. She closed the distance between them and took a seat next to him. She draped her arm around his back, walking her fingers up to his nape before stroking it. He focused his attention onto it and drew his strength from each gentle pass of her hand.

He tilted his head toward her and gazed into her eyes. He scoffed. "I am not at all opposed to your offer. More than anything, I would love to take you up on it."

She tilted her own head. "But?"

Just as he started to answer her, Father's words echoed in his mind again. He resisted the temptation to blow out some air. He was a grown man who had been married once before, and his previous wife had shown him that he didn't need to cling to the courtship rules established long before he was born. Why did his mind insist that he ignored modern customs?

She studied his expression. "When is your mind?"

He used her gaze to pull himself out of his past. "1796. Father's chewing me out about nearly eloping with Elizabeth Norton."

He swallowed as his father's voice finally faded. Since she had learned the truth about him, he had always been open about his past, vocalizing thoughts and rationales from an age immortalized by Jane Austen's works and romanticized by modern adaptations of them. He had no idea how telling her his more recent thoughts would impact their relationship.

He summoned his courage. He knew how much trouble he could get himself into while hiding even the minutest detail from her. Breaking either of their hearts wasn't worth keeping this from her.

He huffed. "I was raised in an era when marriage was every bit of a business transaction as it was a matter of the heart." He raised his hand between them. "I know. This is far too early for us to consider the possibility of being joined together in matrimony. But my upbringing was among the many reasons why I took so long to propose to Abigail. I wouldn't blame you if you would prefer a relationship that mirrors what you are accustomed to. I—."

Jo laid a finger from her free hand on his lips. The warmth from her poured into him and erased his thoughts. His body grew limp as his words drained away from him.

Her brown eyes danced with his. "You've been trying to properly court me this entire time? Or about as much as you can after Abigail and your ex-girlfriends had introduced you to the pleasures of 20th and 21st century dating?"

He tried to nod to confirm Abigail's contribution to his relational education, but he couldn't. It was almost as if Jo's finger was keeping him spellbound.

She bowed her head and then threw it back, her hair floating behind her in the process. She grinned at him, her eyes glowing even brighter.

She giggled and removed her finger from his lips. "I figured as much." She cupped his cheek, and her thumb ran along his cheekbone, sending a slight shiver through him. "It's been insanely romantic, and I'm enjoying it. I wouldn't mind you courting me the way you have been when we return to our regular lives."

His lips parted, and his heart raced. "You wouldn't?"

She stroked his cheekbone once more and rested her thumb on it. "With you, I wouldn't have it any other way."

His eyes traveled from each speck in hers to another. Did he dare to think it? Was she considering the possibility of the two of them being joined together in marriage one day as well?

She broke her gaze and looked past him. A moment later, her glow faded into a somberness he had seen earlier in the day.

His heart sank, taking his euphoria with it. Then again, maybe he was wrong. Perhaps she was content to let him continue to court her until she felt that she was no longer interested in a romantic relationship with him. If so….

"You know." Jo removed her hand from his neck, propped her elbow on the sofa's back, and rested her head in her hand. "I don't feel comfortable staying here anymore."

Before he could breathe another sigh of relief, her words registered in his mind. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? You had persuaded me to abandon my thoughts of fleeing to another country when we had discovered Captain Sheridan is one of our neighbors."

"I know." She bowed her head. "That was before we learned he murdered Dexter." She then huffed before her gaze found his again. "It's been bugging me almost all day. The only time it hadn't was during our visit to the National Museum. I can't stop myself from thinking that he had attacked us to keep us from questioning Emma. He knows we're here. What if he decides to do it again?"

Henry broke his gaze. Their arrival in The Viele's garage and meeting Emma returned to him. The moment that he had heard Emma's voice, he had known that Captain Sheridan had recognized them. Since he wasn't sure if the captain had ever seen him as they passed through the OCME's and NYPD's joint hallways, it stood to reason that he had likely referred to Jo.

He turned back to her and gulped. "Where do you want to go?"

A slight smile played on her lips. "I was thinking about going back to Alphabet City or the Lower East Side and using an apartment there as a hideout until we decide where to go next. We can swap and modify our covers, and we can use our real names to throw Captain Sheridan off. We already know the area and some of the people in either neighborhood, so we don't have to worry about where we can go or who we can trust. And it's close enough to the shop for us to pick Abe up if we need to leave New York for a while."

He studied her. It was a very solid plan if he had ever heard one. Perhaps far more solid than when he had contemplated using the shop as a base while they continued their regular lives a month ago.

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Since I told you I was checking out the apartment again. Being in your bedroom again and re-enacting Dexter's murder in my head spooked me into thinking about it"

He threw his head back in acknowledgment. So that was what was taking her so long to decide where to sleep.

She glanced back at the door and bit her lower lip. "I don't know what to do about Ryan, though. I don't think I could live with myself if Captain Sheridan hurt him because of us."

Henry bit his lower lip. Their memories, their discovery of their crime scene, suspect, and murder weapon, and the information which Mike and Lt. Reece had shared with them had confirmed Ryan's fears about Captain Sheridan. If the captain of the 11th Precinct's homicide division suspected that Ryan had tipped them off….

He met Jo's eyes and laid a hand on her other forearm. "We should slip a note under Ryan's door and explain everything to him. He might feel betrayed by our deception, but it's a risk we have to take."

Her eyes roamed his. "You don't think he will betray us to Captain Sheridan?"

He gathered his thoughts. "I have no reason to suspect that he will. When we had met him, he had mentioned that he suspected Captain Sheridan had a role in Dexter's death and that there was bad blood between them. I doubt that he would tell the captain anything about us. If anything, we might confirm his suspicions."

While she bit her lower lip again, Jo nodded.

A moment later, she smiled. "Who's going to take care of that, you or me?"

"If you want formality, it should be me. If not, then you should write the note."

Jo's responding giggle warmed his chest. "Considering your way with words, you should write the note." She tugged her cell phone out of her pocket. "In the meantime, I'll set up a private network on my phone so we can look for apartments without Captain Sheridan using cybercrimes to track us."

Almost anticipating his confusion, she held his gaze. "I came across a setting for it when I was playing with my cell phone in my bedroom. I don't think it would hurt."

Henry's lips parted, and he slightly shook his head. Her ingenuity had always amazed him. Now, it was something that he suddenly desired in a wife.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip. "When do you want to start?"

"Tonight." She shifted in her seat. "That is, if you want to."

He peeked at his bedroom door and gulped. He wasn't looking forward to spending another night in a murder scene.

He turned back to her and sighed. "Tonight, it is." He pushed himself off the sofa. "Let me get some paper and pen."

"I'll start on the network."

As he re-entered the bedroom and headed for the closet, he snuck another peek at his bed. He swallowed. He hoped they knew what they were doing. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to Ryan or Jo.

Wanting some reassurance, Henry returned to the threshold and peered around it. Jo remained in her seat, her head bent over her cell phone. He smiled. He had no idea whether she was remotely considering marriage as well, but one thing he was certain of. He still had time to determine what her thoughts on the subject were…

…and, in a way, he hoped that she was of the same mind as him.

* * *

Henry leaned against Jo's body. Curious, she lifted her eyes from her phone and glanced over at him. Her lips almost landed on the bridge of his nose.

She nudged him with her shoulder. "Henry?"

He didn't move. She nudged him again. "Henry?"

The response that she received this time was a soft, short hum.

She peered over his nose as best as she could. From what she could see, the eye facing her started to flutter open.

Her heart ached within her. She hated to wake him up. It had been as much of a long day for him as it had been for her. Perhaps even longer for him because of the way it had gone.

He shifted his weight, almost as if he was trying to wake up. She gave him a quick kiss on the nose. "Go back to sleep."

He eased himself back onto her shoulder, and his eye slid shut. Her lips parted. How was it possible for her to have so much influence over him? In some ways, the amount of trust that he put in her was a little terrifying. She could literally do or say anything to him, and he would always give in to whatever she wanted. It was almost as if her words and her touch were magic spells that transformed him into a completely different man every time he was around her.

Then again, given what Nora had put him through, it was a miracle that he felt completely safe with the women he loved. With the exception of Anne Peyton, every time that he had grown close to another woman, he had suddenly broken it off with her. Abigail, through her love, understanding, and compassion, had convinced him to fight his fears so he could have a life with her. And Jo…

A piercing pain jabbed the side of her neck. She hissed. She had to get more comfortable now if she didn't want to wake Henry up and ask him for another massage.

Keeping him against her as much as possible, Jo removed her phone from her lap and eased it onto the coffee table. She then twisted around to let him rest against her chest. Once his head settled onto her shoulder again, she reached over and, with her free hand, ran her fingers through the wavy hair on the back of his head. After a few passes, his head nestled itself deeper into the crease of her neck.

Her stomach lurched toward her throat. It seemed like his history was repeating itself. The last time that his worry had drained him this much, he had finally confessed that he was immortal. She had had no idea how much emotional and physical energy he had spent while telling her about his first death, meeting Abigail and Abe, and his and Adam's confrontations until his eyelids had begun to droop. Now, it was clear he was worrying about their situation almost as much as he had about her reaction to his story.

Her hand drifted down to his exposed cheek, her thumb venturing over to stroke it. Then again, he wasn't used to starting over to protect someone else. Because of his fears about being committed or being experimented on, he had left his life behind so frequently that it had become almost instinctive. When Adam had threatened her a year ago, Henry had defaulted to running without telling her what had happened or attempting to say goodbye to her. He had never imagined that she would have been willing to go with him if she had felt she was in danger.

She glanced at the door and sighed. Like she felt now. If she wasn't certain that Captain Sheridan would do something to harm either of them, she wouldn't have suggested the idea.

Henry snuggled tighter against her. She smiled. At least they would be very close to home this time. To her disappointment, the slightly cheaper apartments which she had seen when she had first selected their current residence had already been rented out, but they finally found several that they liked. They agreed that they would tell Lieu about their change of plans after they settled in. Since he had the money on hand, Henry would pay the rent out of his savings until they had received word that it was safe to return to their regular lives. It wasn't a perfect arrangement, but they both had felt that it would do for the time being.

As for the rooms themselves, they had to compromise….

 _Jo stared at the listing for an apartment on the southern edge of Alphabet City. She leaned forward, and her jaw fell open. How was that possible? At the time that she had found it, it was a prime place for people who were starting out in their lives. She was sure that it would have been taken already._

 _She bit her lower lip. Still, she wasn_ _'t sure how Henry would feel about it. Given his uncharacteristic reaction to her suggestion of them sharing a bedroom, she had tried to find an apartment where they could be relatively hidden, but that was proving to be impossible._

 _She huffed. She might as well let him know about it. It would be at least one apartment to consider while they packed._

 _She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and stared across the apartment._ _"I found another one in Alphabet City at 4th and Avenue B."_

" _What type?" Henry's voice rose over the toilet flushing._

 _She swallowed. He had been looking forward to properly courting her. This would really complicate things._

 _Jo summoned her courage._ _"It's a fully furnished one-bed, one bath apartment."_

 _He turned off the sink. A moment later, he opened the door and leaned against the threshold._ _"I'll sleep on the floor." He bowed his head, and she could see a small smile playing on his lips._

 _When he finally met her gaze again, his smile grew wider._ _"To be honest with you, I got a better night's sleep on it when I have taken it a week ago than I had on my own bed. I don't know what it was about it, but it lulled me to sleep almost immediately."_

 _Her eyes widened._ _"Why the change in heart?"_

 _He met her eyes._ _"When you had mentioned us sharing your bedroom, I had…" He chuckled. "I, um…." He bowed his head and grinned like he had the first time the 11th Precinct's homicide floor had teased him about his awakening._

 _Jo bit back her laugh. Before he could make a decision then, he had closed his eyes and gripped the sofa. A smile had grown on his lips. She wondered what he was thinking, but she didn_ _'t have the nerve to ask him about it. Apparently, he was pretty embarrassed about it._

 _Her eyes broke from him and darted around the room. Then again, had he_ _…?_

 _Henry left his spot and closed the distance between them. He settled on the sofa next to her, took her petite hand into his, and squeezed it. He gazed into her eyes. She could feel herself getting lost in them._

 _He gave her one of his lopsided grins._ _"Anyways, I couldn't stop the direction of my more passionate thoughts, and Father's advice served as a bucket of ice-cold water from the East River. When I came to my senses, I momentarily panicked about our living arrangements."_

 _Jo looked down at their hands and nodded. Somehow, she could see that._

 _His thumb traced a path over the back of her hand. He studied their hands and met her eyes again._

 _His lopsided smile returned to his face._ _"While I was in the bathroom, I reminded myself that Abigail's and my early life together wasn't that different from what mine and your life here over the past month and what we're anticipating." He tilted his head. "Abigail and I had a wonderful life together, and I wouldn't trade it for the world." He reached up to Jo's cheek, caressed it, and rubbed his thumb over the high cheekbone he had once complimented. "I hope that I can build the same with you."_

 _Her eyes danced between the specks in his. Her chest warmed. Was it possible? Could he be thinking about spending a long part of his life with her?_

" _I hope so too." Her voice sounded so soft that she wasn't sure if he could hear her._

 _They gazed into each other_ _'s eyes for a moment. She drew in a sharp breath. How was this possible? How could they be one like this? This was deeper than when they had first kissed._

 _He broke his gaze and looked at the phone._ _"May I see what you've found?"_

 _She took a minute to gather her thoughts. When she found the rest of her mind, she found her cell phone and showed him the apartment._

 _As he consented to considering it and indicated his desire to continue the search, she eyed him. She didn_ _'t know why, but this particular apartment hunt was more exciting than their move here…_

… _and she was looking forward to seeing what happened._

She blinked herself out of her memory. She knew why she had found the idea of starting over with Henry exciting this time. Back when Lieu had suggested it, she had felt like she was giving up her life entirely. Now, she was wondering what it would be like to spend the rest of her life with Henry. To be married to him….

" _I was raised in an era when marriage was every bit of a business transaction as it was a matter of the heart…. This is far too early for us to consider the possibility of being joined together in matrimony…. I wouldn't blame you if you would prefer a relationship that mirrors what you are accustomed to. I—."_

She lowered her eyes and inspected the coffee table's contents. Admittedly, she hadn't thought much about what Henry would be like as a husband. She had been enjoying their moments together. Their kisses every chance they got. The way he held her in his arms whenever they sat on the sofa. Falling asleep on his lap after a massage. His massages. Not wanting to leave his side when they went to bed.

A smile escaped to her lips. Even the way that he had looked at her when she had changed into a dress before their first date. The moment she had met his eyes, the room warmed around her, chasing away the chill. All that she could think of was him looking at her as though she was Venus stepping foot onto dry land for the first time.

Jo ran her fingers back through his hair. Still, he would make a wonderful husband. His big heart and his tender care for those he loved had always stood out to her, and they had attracted her almost from the start. She wouldn't have to worry about him providing for her if she was unable to find a job. If she let him, he would spoil her with trips around the world, expensive clothes and perfume, and fine food whenever she wanted. Whenever he was around her, he had almost always put her first, and the few times which he hadn't had been when he had been afraid of her learning about his immortality. Being bored while with him went out the window when she had searched the shop for clues about the Lincoln Center Station crash. He always treated her like an equal whether out in the field or at home. And he….

He shivered in her arms. Wrinkling her forehead, she laid her hand on his forearm. He might tolerate the cold pretty well when he was awake. She, however, was sure that he would be more comfortable under a blanket now.

Jo eased herself off the sofa and pivoted toward Henry. His body fell toward the sofa.

She caught him before he landed on the cushions. Biting back her laugh, she straightened him and guided him toward his pillow.

She huffed the moment he was finally down. "Now I know how Abe feels when he has to put you to bed." When she had helped him to Lieu's office, the way he walked had suggested that he was far stronger than he was flexible. How could he be so limp when he was relaxed?

Realizing he was on top of his covers, she pulled her lips together. She hated going back into his room again. Inspecting Henry's bedroom for signs of another break-in was bad enough. The realization of Captain Sheridan murdering Dexter there had been uncharacteristically creeped her out, and she had hurried out of the room as fast as possible a few hours earlier. She wasn't sure if she could take another minute in the room.

She rolled her shoulders, squared them, and blew out some air. That was why she had suggested getting out of the apartment right after she had stated they needed to tell Lieu about the latest development. And that was why she had thought about leaving this place behind while sitting on her bed and waiting for the thoughts to leave her. Starting tomorrow, they were packing their belongings. Hopefully, by the start of next week, they could put their worries about Captain Sheridan behind them.

She eased into Henry's bedroom and headed for his bed. She tugged the blanket off the bed. As she bundled it in her arms, a glint of gold caught her eyes. She stepped over to the end table and smiled at his pocket watch. Soon, her cell phone would join it on their new end table.

Jo swung out into the living room and closed the door. She gingerly stepped between the sofa and the coffee table. She shook the blanket out and covered Henry.

She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "'Night, _mi corazon_."

She glanced at the coffee table. Henry's note to Ryan shone out. She plucked it off its spot. Maybe they could give it to Ryan in the morning. The sooner he could leave, the better it would be for him as well.

She strolled to the light switch and turned off the lights. She took one last look at Henry before she entered her bedroom. Tonight, she had dreamed of being married to him for the first time, but she had no idea how he felt about it. She hoped that he was. She wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Information about the Wilberforces' courtship is from Wikipedia. Information on World War II basic training is from Ken Chamberlin's article "What was Army basic training like during World War II?" in Army Times, The US Army's Medical Department Office of Medical History's "Chapter II: Medical, Dental, Veterinary, and Sanitary Corps Officers", and the Wikipedia article "Army Specialized Training Program". (I still haven't decided whether Henry enlists and is later assigned to the Medical Corps after basic training or if he does the ASTP to refresh his skills, a la the degree from Guam he claims to have in "Social Engineering". In either case, it really doesn't matter for the story.) In real life, there are a group of stores at the intersection that Jo calls out to Henry.

The arrangement of Henry and Abigail's London bedroom is from the final flashback of "The Last Death of Henry Morgan". If you pause the video at 40:29, you will see that Abe's crib is at the foot of Henry and Abigail's bed. I had been so focused on Henry's reunion with Abigail and Abe that I hadn't noticed the beds.

I know it's usually "helpmate", but I have a purpose for using the word "help-meet" instead. I think you'll like it when I get around to it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"Come here."

Jo clipped the yarn and tucked the tail into the closest row. Pulling the scarf out to its full length, she inspected it. For a first try, it didn't look too shabby. She could tell where she had missed several stitches, but, in a way, it was almost as photo-worthy as the designs that she had found on Pinterest.

She bit her lower lip and then grinned. Once they were settled into their new apartment, she could take a picture of it and text it to Karen. She would get a kick out of it.

Henry emerged from his bedroom. "What is it?"

She showed him the scarf. "I finished it." Tilting her head, she gave him a smile. "Want to try it on?"

"I…" He glanced at the door to the apartment. A moment later, he grinned and swung around the end table. "Well, okay."

She scooted over to let him sit down. When he was seated, she passed the garment to him.

He fingered it and smiled. "This looks very well-made."

He gathered it in his hands, folded it in half, wrapped it around his neck, and tucked the ends through the loop. Grinning, she shook her head. How many years of practice had it taken him to learn how to do put on his scarf that fast?

He smoothed it down, almost as if he had a suit on. "It looks and feels nearly as luxurious as those sold in Paul Stuart."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? It's cotton. Usually you buy cashmere or linen."

He gaped and bowed his head, his hand never leaving the scarf. He met her eyes again. "I tend to buy cotton ones when I can't find cashmere or when I want a lighter fabric. In fact, a third of my scarf drawer consists of cotton scarves." He turned back to the garment. "My first splurge after Father Timothy broke me out of Southwark was a cotton cravat. At the time, I was more accustomed to linen and silk clothing, but I felt like a wealthy man the first time that I had put it on."

Jo bowed her own head and bit her lower lip. He had once mentioned he had thought that part of his life would have killed him spiritually. When he had escaped Southwark Prison, he had to flee London with only a suit of clothes which someone had dropped near the site of his awakening in the Thames. The resulting poverty forced him to beg for necessities, which were already in short supply due to Mount Tambora's eruption the year before. If it hadn't been for a kindly merchant who had offered him a bookkeeping job, he likely would have turned to stealing his food and clothes to survive. Who knew what would have happened to him if the authorities had put him in jail for that then?

She rested her head on her hand and studied him as he ran his hand over the scarf. He was enjoying it so much. She hated to break his heart by asking him to give it back to her. Maybe…

She leaned toward him. "Keep it."

He started to put his hands around it. "But I—."

She met his gaze. "Consider it an early anniversary gift from me."

Her heart quickened at the word "anniversary". The smile on his face drowned out the growing question about the ease the word had rolled off her tongue.

His eyes roamed hers. "If you wish."

He sneaked another peek at the scarf. "Let me go and pack it."

"I'll pack my stuff while you're doing that."

As he proceeded to his bedroom, she picked up her needles. The room's light gleamed off the points. She swallowed back the bile in her throat. How could Captain Sheridan use an innocent tool against one of his detectives? Didn't he know that it would incriminate Emma as well? Or did he care more about his reputation than his future wife? She had felt that the pair's engagement was too short. Had he pressured Emma into an early marriage to keep her from telling anyone about his role in Dexter's death?

Jo shook her mind away from the thoughts. Right this minute, discovering Captain Sheridan's motive and his actions after he had deposited Dexter's body near Summit Rock was Mike and Lieu's job. Hers was to ensure everything was packed and ready to go so she and Henry could leave the apartment tonight.

She snatched her yarn and scissors from the sofa and marched to her bedroom. She rolled her suitcase over to her, unzipped it just enough to shove her craft supplies into it, and rezipped it.

She straightened her back, crossed her arms, and huffed. Maybe she should leave it out. Although they had been taking a leisurely pace when packing because of the few items they owned, it would save her some time when they were ready to go.

She spied where Henry's note to Ryan had laid hours earlier. She swallowed. They had slipped it under their neighbor's door early this morning. She hoped that he—and he alone—would find it and would take their suggestions seriously.

She stepped over to the threshold, leaned against it, and stared at Henry's room. How many times would she have to pick up her life and move if she and Henry got married? For the moment, he seemed very comfortable with the idea of someone discovering his condition. But for how long? His secret was getting out much faster than he had ever imagined, as Dr. — Talbert had proven. And, unlike the former ME whom she enjoyed being around almost as much as she did with Henry, not everyone would be content to let Henry live his life in peace. Would she be as willing as Abigail to leave her life behind every time someone would threaten his life somewhere? Or would she insist that they should stay behind and try to make things work, like Abe had successfully argued when she had met Henry?

Henry eased back into the living room and closed the door. She summoned her courage and did the same. She couldn't think about it now. He would insist that they should focus on her instead. She might as well concentrate on what they needed to do next.

She checked her watch and peered out the glass doors leading to the balcony. They still had plenty of daylight left. Maybe she could talk him into going to a restaurant for their last dinner in the neighborhood.

She glanced at the kitchen. They still had a few nonperishables left to pack, and Henry said that he would take care of the food on the counter. It wouldn't hurt for her to start packing the pots and pans when they got back.

Henry met her gaze. "What are you thinking about?"

"Want to go out for dinner?"

"Don't we still have a couple of microwaveable meals from when we had first moved in? They would save us some time, and it would be one less food item which we need to take with us."

Jo closed her eyes and cursed herself. With all of their delicious home-cooked meals and eating out, she had forgotten about them.

She mulled his comments over. He had a point. Eating at a restaurant would take about an hour. An hour which they could use to finish packing. Plus, since they had forgotten to go to the grocery store yesterday, the only food that they would have to pack at the last minute were the milk and a few pieces of fruits.

Sensing that he was waiting for her response, she opened her eyes and nodded.

He offered her a lopsided smile. "Do you mind if I tried to warm them up?"

Her eyes widened. She had never thought she would live to see the day Henry Morgan wanted to use a microwave.

She returned his smile. "Sure. Why not?"

He strolled toward the kitchen. As he reached the table, an insistent pounding reverberated through the apartment.

They looked at each other. No one should be knocking on their door at this hour. So far, with the exceptions of Ryan's and Adam's interruptions early on, everyone had surprisingly left them alone.

A cold shiver ran down Jo's spine. She flew to Henry's side. He might have good intentions to ignore his sense of self-preservation for her sake, but they were in this together. If he were to die tonight while defending her, she was going to do everything in her power to ensure that he could stay in New York for a good while longer.

He took another look at her and gulped. He then opened the door.

A slightly red-faced Ryan appeared in the threshold. His hand clutched a familiar piece of paper.

Locking eyes with Jo, he charged past Henry and shook the note that they had left him. "What's the meaning of this?"

Her eyes traveled to the document and then to him. She willed herself to breathe and to note everything that was happening.

"What do you mean?" Henry's American accent floated through the air.

"This." Ryan thrust the paper at Jo. "I told you my suspicions about Cody, and, now, you're telling me that you are two of his colleagues? And that he had attacked you both nine years ago? Why would you lie to me like this?"

She blinked. "I don't know what you're talking about." As Henry closed the door behind them, she hoped that her denial would keep anyone from overhearing them and reporting the argument to Captain Sheridan.

He pointed at her and then at the letter. "Why did you write this?"

"What makes you think I wrote the letter?"

"First, no male doctor's handwriting is this legible."

Jo stared at Ryan. _That_ was what had led him to believe they were lying?

"Second…." He ignored Henry following him. "You both are too quiet and gossipy to be a detective and a medical examiner. Quiet, I would believe if you were undercover gathering evidence in a case against someone else in the building. But you seemed way too interested…."

"You've met us one time, and you didn't ask us anything about ourselves." She met his eyes. "The only things we've lied to you about then were our names and the fact that we're married." She had read the letter, and she had noticed Henry's apology for that. "Why don't you believe us?"

" _I deserve the truth."_

Jo swallowed. She had figured out so much of the truth about Henry then, but she had started to struggle with his lies about his life. When she asked him about his fascination with Adam's _pugio_ , she was desperate for him to come clean to her about his odd behavior since he had learned where Abigail had spent her last days. If she had known that he had wanted to protect her while bringing Abigail's kidnapper to justice, she would have tried to find a way to make both of his desires possible without him taking the law into his hands.

Hoping to calm Ryan down, Jo threw her hands up. "Ryan, you deserved the truth. You needed the truth. Everything we said in the letter is true." She glanced over at Henry and hoped that the incident wasn't reminding him of the moment Nora had told him that she didn't believe him. "We really are in danger. Captain Sheridan—."

"Look." Ryan stepped closer to her. "I don't know who you are, what you want, or why you're here." He trained his eyes on hers. "Like I told you, I really don't know what happened here, and I don't like that you're trying to play me now. I would prefer it if you leave me well enough alone." He huffed. "Maybe I shouldn't have come here. I wouldn't have gotten myself into…."

Henry eased over to Jo's side. He reached out to lay a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "If you haven't come here…."

Ryan swatted Henry's hand away. "Stay away from me before I call the police."

He sped toward the door and let himself out. As the door slammed behind him, Jo cringed. Hopefully, Captain Sheridan or one of his friends on the floor didn't hear that.

Keeping her eyes trained to the door, she crossed her arms and pulled them tightly against her chest. Her stomach sank. It was one of the few times that she wished that she hadn't chosen law enforcement as a career. She hoped that Ryan would see how dangerous Captain Sheridan was, and he would take their suggestion to find another place to stay for the time being. If not, there was nothing that she could do to guarantee his safety.

Henry's hand squeezed her shoulder. She turned to him and placed her hand over his. He gave her one of his lopsided smiles, but it never caught up to his eyes. She tried to smile to reassure him that she was okay.

"Are you ready for dinner?"

Her stomach churned. She wasn't really hungry. Knowing him, though, he would tell her that she needed to eat to maintain her strength for the move.

She took a deep breath. "I guess."

He leaned over until his lips almost touched her ear. "If it helps, I'm not very hungry myself."

Her lips curled up. How did he know that she needed that?

As she followed him into the kitchen, she set her concerns about Ryan to the side. For now, guaranteeing their own safety was her top priority. Once they got on the road, she might be able to think of a way to protect their witness. Until then, there was nothing that she could do about it.

* * *

" _Like I told you, I really don't know what happened here…. I would prefer it if you leave me well enough alone."_

Jo rested her lips on her knuckles and stared out at the passing trees just beyond the car's window. Ryan had been so eager to share that fateful day with them when they had first met him. Something had definitely changed since his visit. If she needed to make a guess, she would say that Captain Sheridan had recently asked Ryan about them, and Lieu's boss had intimidated their neighbor when he had found out that Ryan had talked to them.

The light fog twirled around the sparse yellow lights highlighting their route away from the place they had called home for the past month. She huffed. She hated this feeling. Her academy instructors had taught her to not take incidents like this personally. That no one could be forced to go into protection against their will unless they were mentally ill. Still, she couldn't help to think that she was doing something wrong.

She peeked back in the rearview mirror. The Central Park Conservatory loomed behind them, either pointing them out to Captain Sheridan or directing them to safety. Or encouraging them to go back for Ryan's sake. She couldn't decide which.

A lone bicyclist on the sidewalk whizzed by them and merged into the lane. She braced herself for a collision. Henry stepped on the brakes, and, to her surprise, he brought the car to a gentle, gliding stop.

She turned to him, her eyebrows raising. Where and when did he learn to drive like that? From the way Henry and Abe argued, she could have been led to believe that he was absolutely dangerous behind the wheel before he had stopped driving.

The bicyclist sped ahead of them, his small taillight instructing them to follow him under the arch. Jo sighed. She didn't want to, but they would have to.

"What is it?" Henry's British lilt warmed her chest.

Darkness filled the car. She stared ahead at the dim streetlight beyond them.

She didn't know how to put this. _Here goes_ _…_.

"Can we turn back?"

He momentarily took his eyes off the road to look at her. "What?"

She took a deep breath and summoned her courage. "I don't feel right about leaving Ryan behind." She sighed. "We can still go back. We left our keys in the apartment, so we technically haven't moved yet. And our new landlord still has to run a credit check and likely a background check on us before he approves our application…."

She cursed herself. They had forgotten about that. And about all the documentation that they needed to provide during the application process. They had been lucky when The Viele's supervisor had accepted their forged documents as well as the real ones which Lieu had provided him on short notice. Now, their new landlord might not accept what they would give him….

Ryan's red face and the letter's contents flashed before her. Her heart raced. "We might be his best chance at getting an extra patrol in the area or alerting Lieu quickly if something were to happen to him." She glanced at the wall along their path. "We're just a few doors down from him. If we heard something coming from his apartment…."

"Jo, we have done everything we could, but he has chosen to ignore our warning. As much as we would like to protect him, we can't." A fire flared in Henry's eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would believe that it was the same one which she had seen when she had caught him near Aubrey Griffin's door, holding the _pugio_ over his head and poised to kill whoever had entered the townhouse.

"Henry." She spun toward him. "It's easy for you to leave your patients, both alive and dead, behind. The only mess you create is the broken hearts of the people who care about you." Her rising voice echoed in her ears. "This is my second time running! The last time that I had to forget about something to protect myself, it didn't end well. Have you forgotten that was what had gotten us into this mess?"

Her words registered in her consciousness. She threw herself back into her seat. Was that why she didn't want to leave Ryan behind? Was her guilt about not continuing the investigation into Dexter's death finally rearing its ugly head in full? If so, what had taken it so long?

She gazed out the windshield. The white lights from the Delacorte Theater and from the Belvedere Castle renovation project shone through the vegetation and over the granite wall. What she wouldn't give to be seated next to Henry and to listen to him as he quoted the performers' lines ahead of them.

"You have a point." His voice sliced through her thoughts, and her heart clenched at his measured tone. The light vanished as they passed under 79th Street Transverse's second arch. "It was easy to let my panic consume me and to ignore my conscience's small voice pleading for me to remember my oath and to think of my patients' welfare. After my life returned to a relative normalcy, my conscience accused me of being selfish for not putting their needs ahead of my security. I spent countless sleepless nights wondering if I had done the right thing. Eventually, it caught up with me, and I took on odd jobs for a little while as a way to atone for my transgressions."

They emerged on the other side. "Fate led me into emergency medicine during World War II. For a few years, it was the best of both worlds." He tilted his head and glanced at her. "You know how that went."

Jo broke her gaze and found the Grecian-style corner of the FDNY Manhattan's Central Office. During a difficult case a few months ago, she had learned that he still had nightmares about abandoning the patient who had stopped him from taking Abe to Don Larsen's fateful World Series game. It had pained her to….

A weight pressed down on her left hand and warmed it. She looked at the seat between them. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Henry's hand over hers.

He offered her a small, apologetic smile. "If we're unable to bring Captain Sheridan to justice within your lifetime, I will find out what happened to Ryan and see if I can bring his, Megan's and Dexter's families some closure." His eyes reflected a solemnness which could have only come from being in situations like this over the ages. "Aside from informing Lt. Reece about Ryan's reluctance to lay low elsewhere, it's likely the best that we can do."

It was a small comfort, but she had to take it. He had all the time in the world to continue their investigation. Since Megan and Dexter never had children, Jo hoped that Henry would be able to track down their siblings' relatives and let them know what had happened to their kin.

He huffed.

She turned to him. "What is it?"

He sat in silence for a moment. "I wish that I could do the same for the people I had left behind. Sometimes, I'm fortunate to cross paths with them again or run into their descendants, as when we had questioned Miranda Browning and when we had investigated Gloria Carlyle's and Armen Aronov's deaths. Others…."

Jo's heart broke. She hadn't realized how much guilt Henry carried with him after every run. Maybe she had been too hard on him.

She bit her lower lip. There had to be some way….

She cocked her head. "If their names aren't lost in your blur of memories, you can always use a genealogical website to track them down. You might not be able to learn their descendants' names due to privacy settings and laws, but it would give you a head start."

He turned to her, his mouth agape. "Why didn't I think of that?"

She chuckled. "It's still a little difficult for you to trade your cave paintings for the Internet."

His eyes and mouth widened. Before he could respond, they passed under the road's third tunnel. She peered up at the arch. How was it possible for the bricks of this one to look as enchanting as the hewn rock of the first two?

Jo smiled. The ancient and the modern. Just like her and Henry.

Her mind went back to the Delacorte Theatre. She propped her elbow against the window again and leaned her head on her hand. It was too bad that they had to leave their apartment so soon. It would have been a great date night if they could have walked to the performance and enjoyed walking through the park until late into the night afterward.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his cheek move. "When we get the chance, do you want to go to the Delacorte Theatre to see _Othello_?"

She stared at him. Had the drive by the theater prompted him to think of that?

She settled back into her seat. "Not really. After today, I'm not up to seeing a show about a jealous husband killing his wife right now. How about we hold out for _Twelfth Night_?"

He bit his lower lip and nodded. A moment later, he grinned. " _Twelfth Night_ , it is." He sneaked a peek at her. "Maybe things would be different for us then."

A comfortable silence fell over them. Jo stared out the window and watched their headlights illuminate the granite brick wall that attempted to protect the park from the outside world. She wiggled in her seat and leaned back. Maybe she had overreacted when she had told Henry that she was worried they would run out of things to talk about. Even if they didn't exchange another word, she would be happy with just his presence.

They passed under the last tunnel. A few moments later, cars began to slow down and pile up ahead of them. She inhaled when she saw Fifth Avenue emerging from the trees.

Henry rolled up to the intersection and came to a stop. A father pointed a stroller carrying a sleeping toddler toward the nearby apartment complexes and veered off into the street. Beside him, a woman directed a slightly older girl through the crosswalk.

Jo peered down the street. They must have spent one of the last days of school at the playground two blocks away.

Her eyes followed them as they stepped onto the opposite sidewalk. She took a peek at Henry. As frustrating as the younger Morgan could be at times, Abe had brought a lot of joy into her life as well as Henry's. Still….

She leaned her head onto her hand. "Say, do you want kids one day?"

He glanced at her. "Why do you ask that?"

"The topic's bound to come up eventually. We might as well get it out of the way before we make any more plans for the future. Who knows? It could be a deal-breaker for one of us."

He glanced at the light and drove ahead, somehow focusing on the traffic with his distant gaze. "When I first met you, I was certain that Abe would be the last child I would ever raise." He then smiled at her. "Lately, though, I've enthusiastically welcomed the idea of having more children and even spending time with my descendants far into the future." He tilted his head. "How about yourself?"

She bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes. "Sean and I had planned to have our own family, but, um, he died before we could start." Her thoughts while at Summit Rock returned, filling her with a warmth that reached her lips. "I'm kind of looking forward to having a second chance at it. I don't care if they're biological or adopted. I would love to have my own family someday."

Jo looked back to where she had last seen the family. She stood at the crosswalk and heaved a sigh of relief as the lights indicated their turn to cross. Henry pushed a stroller carrying their young daughter, the very image of her as a child, toward the park. She called out to their son who had raced slightly ahead of them, his dark brown curls bouncing with each step. He fell back into their group and bowed his head as he apologized. Upon her forgiveness, his smile filled out the Longsworth cheekbones he had inherited from his father. She peeked behind them. Abe and Fawn chattered, his arm draped around her neck and her arm fitted snugly around his waist. Abe and Fawn's wedding rings glimmered under the streetlights. She grinned. How was it possible for her to be surrounded by so many people she cared about?

Jo's heart raced, bringing her back to the car. While she turned back around, she blinked back the image. What on Earth had just happened?

She settled back into her seat. Maybe the stress of the move had gotten to her, and she needed a nap.

She closed her eyes to see if she could get some rest. As far as she knew, they would be scurrying as soon as they arrived at their destination. She would need every ounce of strength for that.

* * *

"Jo?"

Henry's voice called from the distance. Jo mentally groaned. It was quiet and peaceful where she was at. As much as she loved him, she wished that she didn't have to respond to his voice.

"Jo?"

Her body gently moved under a weight on her shoulder. She blinked her eyes opened, and a bright light flooded them. She slowly raised her arm to her forehead. It didn't help. She could dimly see Henry's face, but she couldn't tell where she was.

"What?" She wasn't sure, but she thought that she slurred the question.

"We're here."

 _Here?_ What did he mean by that?

Her curiosity burned away the fog in her mind. She pushed herself up and looked around. Her mouth fell open when she saw that she was in her usual parking space in the lot across from Katz's.

She shook the lingering drowsiness off. "I must have fallen asleep."

She narrowed her eyes. She shouldn't have. It should have taken them about ten minutes to reach here from 79th and Roosevelt Drive. That was just long enough for a quick nap.

"How was traffic?" She unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Slow. Between the city's nightlife and an accident at 45th and Second, I thought that we would never arrive."

Jo mulled his comments over. "Why didn't you take Roosevelt Drive? It would have been quicker."

"Using the side streets was safer. If I saw Captain Sheridan following us, I could have turned onto another street or drove into one of the garages until he passed."

She nodded. She hadn't thought about that.

She looked out at the street and took a deep breath. They might as well start their trip to the shop.

She reached over, opened her door, and joined Henry's side at the trunk. He popped it open. In one fluid movement, he tugged her duffel bag out from its hiding place, swung the strap over his shoulder, and closed the trunk.

He wrapped an arm around Jo's waist. She tucked her body against his, reached over, and rested her hand over his heart. She smiled as the miraculous beat played under her fingertips.

"Did you see the apartment complex as we drove by?" She hated that the lobby was closed, and she hated that they now had to wait until they found passable documents and received the approval to move in. She was kind of looking forward to spending their first night in their new apartment.

One of Katz's usual customers strolled toward them. Henry nodded, and Jo waved at the man. He smiled at them, showed them his meal, and proceeded in the opposite direction.

"I did." He pulled her closer to him. "It looks almost as though time had preserved it and its neighbors from the outside world. I doubt that Captain Sheridan would find us there."

Her eyes widened. She had always believed that the building had seen half a century of the area's history, but she didn't realize it was that old. "Do you know if there is a tunnel under it?"

A pair of bar-goers passed by them and marched across the intersection. Before the couple could join their traveling companions, the light changed. Jo closed her eyes and imagined Henry weaving his way through the underground route to access his patients in the tenements.

He nudged her. She opened her eyes and noticed the green signal. She waited until they crossed to look up at him.

He peered back over his shoulder before he noticed her. He rubbed her arm. "It used to. Unless a building's owners had closed it off and converted it into a basement, it should still be accessible."

She slowly nodded. If he was right, they could use it to escape if they were threatened.

They turned onto Suffolk. She took in a deep breath and smiled. It was amazing to be back in the Lower East Side. Everything about the area seemed newer and more full of life than when she had left.

The shop emerged into view. She pulled her lips together at the darkened windows. Abe usually left a light on to deter burglars whenever he was out for a night on the town. Was he sick, and he had decided to turn in early? Or had he been threatened, and he had decided to abandon the shop while they were gone?

She pushed the worry aside. Likely, he was out on another date with Fawn. They were spending more and more time together over the past few years. Even if they didn't say anything about it, Jo couldn't help but to think that they were discussing their future together every time they saw each other.

The image of their family appeared before Jo's eyes again as they approached the side of the shop. She slightly shook her head. She was imagining things. There was no way that fate had granted her a peek into her future. It was too early to….

"It's not like Abe to have all of the lights out this early."

Henry's voice cut through her thoughts as gently as he had woken her from her nap. She peered into the windows. If Abe had fled, he must have decided to leave everything in the shop behind.

"Maybe he's out with Marco and Jerry, and he forgot to leave a light on." Her comment was more of an attempt to reassure herself than a statement.

"Maybe."

They stopped at the door and reached for their keys at the same time. They grinned at each other. Henry bowed his head toward her and pocketed his set.

She twisted toward him. "Are you sure?" She had let herself into the shop many times before, almost all of them without a key. This time, it felt different. It was almost as if they were crossing the threshold into a brand-new world once they were inside.

"We've always let you go wherever you please within our home, and we gave you a key for easy access to my most intimate space when I need another suit of clothes." He chuckled. "In some ways, we have invited you to make this every much of your home as it is Abe's and mine, so I don't see why not."

Her eyes widened. Was it really possible? Was he thinking of her as a part of his family?

She slid her key into the lock and opened the door. They flipped on the light. Easing toward the doors leading to the apartment upstairs, Jo swallowed. She hoped that everything was okay with Abe.

Once upstairs, Jo flipped on the lights while Henry slid the bag off of his shoulder and sped toward Abe's bedroom. She checked the kitchen and the living room. Seeing that Abe wasn't there, she bounded up the stairs to the balcony. She looked around, but Abe wasn't in sight.

She descended the stairs and pulled her lips together. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or terrified that Abe was nowhere to be seen.

She walked around the apartment just as she had when she had first searched it. Henry's words rang in Jo's ears, and her heart raced. Did she dare to think it? Was he…?

He emerged from the hallway. She met his eyes. "It looks like everything is where we had left it. Was he in the bedrooms or your lab?"

Henry shook his head. "With the exception of a missing change of clothes, he hasn't taken anything." He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I wish I knew where he was. I don't want to call him if he's out with Marco and Jerry or on a date with Fawn. I…."

Jo closed the distance between them and stroked his arm. "If he's okay, he'll be back in the morning." If not, she would wake up early to call him and to let him know that his father was worried about him.

Henry huffed. "I guess you're right." He glanced at the door. "Should we settle down for the night?"

She brushed her hair back over her ear. "Do you want me to help you make the sofa up for me? I didn't mind it the last time I slept there."

He smiled and bowed his head. "Sure. Why not?"

As he guided her to the closet where they kept their linens, Jo took a deep breath. Their relationship was changing fast, and she wanted to see if it was going the way that she thought. She hoped that nothing would stop it…

…not even Captain Sheridan himself.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Information on cotton suits (or at least trousers) is from Jane Austen's World's "Regency Fashion: Men's Breeches, Pantaloons, and Trousers". Information about the social effects of Mount Tambora's eruption is from Wikipedia, listed under "Year Without a Summer". The possibility of Henry stealing food in 1815 and 1816 comes from a deleted scene for "The Wolves of Deep Brooklyn". In it, he's caught, beaten, and arrested for trying to get away with a stolen loaf of bread. By the way, Jo doesn't know about that cravat. Information about moving into a New York apartment is from Urban Edge's "How to Apply for an Apartment in NYC, & Signing Your Lease" and City-Data Forum's "Renting" pages 5 and 7.

For the description of the 79th Street Transverse, I used Google Earth's Street View to see it in broad daylight. The playground in question is the James Michael Levin Playground, and it's open until 1 AM.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note** : I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

 **Chapter 21**

It didn't matter how many times Henry had moved, but waking up in a new residence always felt surreal. Strangely, though, he hadn't expected to experience that feeling here.

He rubbed his face to reassure himself of what he was seeing. He huffed. He might as well get it over with. If he were dreaming, he should enjoy it for however long it lasted. At least it would be a pleasant interlude to the thoughts that had dominated his mind over the past couple of days.

He dared to peek over his fingers. His breath caught in his throat upon sighting the familiar set of drawers and mirror over it, the pair of end tables flanking the bed, the brick wall and window to his left, and the familiar blanket over his crossed legs. He wasn't dreaming. He truly was back in his bedroom over the shop.

He swung his legs over the bed's edge and lingered there for a minute. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. It had felt like an eternity since he had last slept there. He had no idea how comforting it was to be back in his own bed.

Taking one whiff of himself, he wrinkled his nose. He needed a shower before he could make himself presentable to Jo.

Henry placed his foot on the floor. His eyes jarred wide open. If he had any lingering doubts whether everything was real, the slight chill of the hardwood floors was erasing them.

He headed for the drawers and the closet to fetch his clothes before heading to the bathroom. He laid everything on the corner of the sink, snatched a towel out from under the sink, and turned on the water.

He stripped off his clothes and stepped foot into the shower. As the warm water ran over him, he closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. For a while, he had thought that he would never take another shower within the confines of his own home again.

He listened for Jo's voice to carry over the rushing water. _How is she this morning?_ The past couple of days had been rather strenuous on her, making her uncharacteristically restless. Even when they had prepared her bed on the sofa last night, she had been more upset than he had ever seen her. It was almost as if….

" _Can we turn back?… I don't feel right about leaving Ryan behind…."_

Henry's stomach sank. He hadn't felt right about leaving their neighbor behind either. As far as they knew, they were the man's best chance of preserving his life. Yet, Ryan had firmly rejected even their apology for their deception. Although he wished that he could have turned the car around, protecting Jo was his top priority.

"… _we have done everything we could, but he has chosen to ignore our warning. As much as we would like to protect him, we can't…."_

His heart lurched as it had when he had recognized his curt tone. He hadn't meant to take his frustration out of Jo. Before she had requested their return to The Viele, his memory of leaving his patient in the alley near the hospital where he had worked in 1956 had returned. He had thought that he had absolved himself of his guilt when he had taken a job with a life insurance company shortly afterward, but the incident appeared destined to haunt him for eternity.

" _This is my second time running!…"_

Henry slowly lowered the soap back on its dish and scrubbed the rest of his body. She was right. They were running from their circumstances. He had promised himself that he would never let fear rule his life again. Now, he had broken his vow the first opportunity that presented itself to him. All because Jo's life was in danger again.

He shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and took his time drying off. He was afraid that this would happen. He had thought that he had finally left this part of his life behind permanently two months ago. Yet, their circumstances had breathed life back into his old nature, and it was seeking vengeance for his enjoyment of his newfound freedom from the pain of his past.

Tears stung his eyes. He wiped them away and slipped on his clothes. Jo was the most important person to him, save for Abe. She had been his guiding star, his best friend, and his confidante since he had met her, and he had fallen madly in love with her. If he were to lose her, he would be unable to bear life again.

" _When I was married to Sean, there were times that I resented him…. Don't get me wrong. I loved him…. I hated the fact that I couldn't let anyone know anything about him or where we lived…. I accepted the situation because I knew that I needed to do it to protect him….Leaving one's home and lying about oneself is perfect for hiding centuries of life. But to hide from a stalker? I love you, Henry, but…"_

His heart sank. Was this the type of life that he wanted to offer Jo? One in which they would need to move when her life was threatened? Where they must conceal their activities and their residence from all but their closest friends to keep someone with a malicious intent from discovering their home? Asking her to return to an existence that she had hated in hopes of keeping those who sought her life away from her for the remainder of her days?

Henry's mind rolled over the last thoughts. He burst into laughter. He had asked himself the same questions whenever he had felt that his life somewhere could be threatened. He had never imagined that he would worry about Jo—or any woman, for that matter—in a similar manner. Was it possible…?

The very faint smell of eggs drifted into the bedroom, enticing him to discover what dish they were a part of. He ran his hairbrush over his hair, hurried back into the bedroom to deposit his dirty clothes into the clothes hamper, and raced to the kitchen.

He emerged from the hallway and entered the joint kitchen and dining area. He frowned. Jo was oddly absent from the room.

He peered into the living room. She stood at the windows, staring at the light rain beyond the glass. From what he could tell, her arms were crossed in front of her.

He closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward his chest. Her back relaxed the moment it touched him.

"You're up early." Henry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "How did you sleep last night?"

She leaned against him. Her arms dropped. She turned around and wrapped her hands around his nape. "About as well as someone worrying about how we're going to forge a work history within twenty-four hours."

His stomach lurched toward his heart. It appeared that they must pursue his original plan B. His forger should be ready to accept customers within a couple of hours. As for places where she could flee to….

"How about you?" Jo tugged at the hairs lining his neck and wrapped it around her finger. His knees weakened under his weight while her caress wiped out his next thought. "It's not like you to sleep in. Your excitement from driving again must have kept you up until late into the night."

Henry's lips tugged up to the sky. "Come to think about it, driving your car again did keep me energized for part of the evening."

The image of his head hitting his pillow returned. He broke his gaze for a moment. "I must have passed out from fatigue, though. I don't remember much after I went to bed."

His eyes danced among the specks in hers. It was very rare for a woman to desire to know him so thoroughly. With the exception of Abigail, he had shuddered at the idea and went to great lengths to conceal as much of himself as possible. Now, he would love for Jo to continue to turn the pages of his life and his soul for as long as she had breath.

She leaned forward. Before he knew it, her lips pressed against his. He returned her kiss and deepened it. Feeling his knees weaken even more, he reached up and cupped her cheek in hopes of keeping himself upright.

A faint tinkling came and passed in Henry's hearing. He pulled Jo closer to him and drank in the affection that she was offering him. Too much time had passed since they had last done this. In addition, the dream of her lying beside him on their bed, a golden wedding ring adorning her finger, had left a hole in his heart the moment that he had awakened. He wished that they would continue this for the rest of their lives together.

"Pops?" Abe's voice thundered through Henry and forced his eyes open. "What are you doing here?"

Henry reluctantly pulled away from Jo and twisted around to see his son standing just beyond the threshold. An amused smile played on Abe's lips as he set his hands on his hips.

"I have so many questions for the two of you. It isn't every day that I catch my father making out with his girlfriend."

"Abraham!" Henry's cheeks flushed. "We were not making out. We were…."

He caught his reaction. "Why am I even explaining myself to you? Jo and I are adults…."

The darkened, empty apartment loomed in his mind. His heart pounded. How many worst-case scenarios had run through his head once he had left Jo for his bedroom?

Henry pulled away from Jo's side and marched toward his son. '"What about you?" His voice rose loud enough to ring in his ears. "Where were you last night? Why didn't you leave a note on the table or keep a light on in the shop? Don't you have _any_ idea what you had put Jo and me through with your absence?"

"The guys and I had a night out on the town, and I slept over at Marco's. Fawn and I arranged to have breakfast here this morning two days ago. I figured I should swing by her place and, like the gentleman you tried to raise me to be, pick her up so we could have more time together." Abe shifted his weight onto his other foot. "You never answered my question. I thought that you were still on the Upper West Side."

"… _Fawn…"_

Henry's cheeks warmed again. He dared to peek over at the young woman. She uncovered her mouth and attempted to act like she didn't hear anything.

He gave her a hopefully apologetic smile. "My apologies, Fawn. I didn't notice you."

"It's nice to see you again, Henry." Fawn's return of his smile warmed his chest. She leaned around him and found Jo, who had joined him. "Jo."

She turned back to Henry. "We didn't mean to interrupt your romantic moment."

Henry scoffed and bowed his head. "Abe and I have been interrupting each other's romantic moments since he's worn diapers. I'm used to it."

"Pops!"

Abe continued his protest, but the memories of the young couple's relationship drowned out the younger Morgan's words. Henry swallowed. He had been the one to force Abe to leave Fawn behind years ago. Fate had brought them back together, and, unless he could convince her to join them, he would pull them apart again.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers found his watch and glided along the cool metal. He hated to do it, but he would have to leave Abe behind this time. Abe had a life here, an active one with the woman he loved and who might someday become his wife. His son had waited decades for a sense of normalcy. It wouldn't be right for him to take him away from that now.

" _You know I can't do this without you."_

" _Then we don't run. We stay…."_

" _How do we fight back?"_

Henry bowed his head and studied their hardwood floor's grain. Abe had talked him into staying in New York when a far greater threat than Captain Sheridan had appeared in their lives. Perhaps they could find a way to thwart this one.

The very noticeable smell of eggs and vegetables drifted into the shop. His stomach rumbled in response.

"Mmm…." Fawn leaned over Abe's chest. "That smells delicious."

"My breakfast casserole." Jo darted over to the oven, grabbed the oven mitts, and ducked below the island's edge. "I thought that, after everything we've been through, we could use some comfort food."

Fawn headed to the cabinets. "Do you want me to help you with something?"

Jo peered over her shoulder. "You could help set the table."

Abe started toward the women. "We don't want to impose on you and Pops if you were planning an intimate meal. We could always eat out somewhere."

"Nonsense." Jo set the large casserole dish on the trivet on the island. "I made enough for you to have for the next few days."

"You didn't have to do that." Abe gave her a shy smile.

She met his eyes. "I wasn't planning to stay here overnight and leave you without food. Not this time."

Fawn twisted around to face them. "So, four place settings?"

Henry and Jo exchanged glances. Until Jo had begun to join them for breakfast last year, it had been quite without the feminine influence. A family meal would be rather enjoyable.

"Yes." Henry stepped off toward the kitchen. "Let us men assist you. After all, it _is_ the 21st century. You shouldn't bear the burden of the kitchen by yourselves."

Jo smirked at him as he passed her. He grinned, rested his hand on her shoulder, and leaned against her ear. "Have I ever told you how much I love your modernity?"

She tapped his chest with the oven mitts. "First time I've heard it, Mr. Darcy." The light in her eyes fueled her smile. "It doesn't meant that I don't enjoy it."

Abe eased past them with the plates. "Would someone mind telling me what's going on? Two of us are a little behind on the story."

Henry and Jo silently debated who should go first. He took the mitts from her and placed them back on the hook. "Do you remember our conversation about me finding one of the people I had attempted to help?"

"That was nine years ago." Abe set the first plate on the table. "And a woman, if memory serves me correctly." He turned around. "I hope I'm not offending the present company." He pointed his thumb at the older man, who had brought the orange juice glasses over. "If you're curious, he didn't want to find her in case their meeting led a relationship with her."

Jo ducked into the refrigerator for another dish. "Present company can't blame him, especially since she came to in time to watch his death and vanishing. She didn't track him down because she was afraid that she would scare him off if she mentioned it to him."

Abe opened and closed his mouth several times. "That was you?"

Jo walked the bowl containing a fruit salad over to the table. She met his eyes, bowed her head, and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.

"That, um, that is why we are here." She huffed. Henry joined her side and rubbed her shoulders. "My, Mike, and Lieu's boss had attacked your father and me then, and his attack on Henry led to Henry's death. We found out that he was living in our building the morning after our date at the movies. We suspect that he killed the victim in our case at the time in Henry's bedroom and that one of our neighbors is a witness. My boss found out about our conversation with him, and he must have threatened him between us meeting our neighbor and yesterday."

"What do you plan to do about it?" Fawn brought the silverware over and laid the utensils down next to the stack of plates.

Henry shoved his hands into his pocket. "We had advised our neighbor to lie low elsewhere for a while. He, um, he, however, refuses to believe us due to our covers." He peered at Jo. "We both feel like we're running from the situation, but we have no idea how we can protect Jo and our witness without Jo's boss finding them."

"Have you returned your keys?" Fawn eased around Abe and placed another set of utensils in its spot.

Jo walked over to the island and retrieved the casserole. Henry moved past her to the refrigerator for the orange juice. "We left them in our apartment." Jo's voice flowed behind him. "We had planned to move into an apartment in Alphabet City." She chuckled, and he could imagine her brushing her hair back over her ear. "We forgot about our new landlord running a background check on us before we can move in."

"So, you can't move back into the apartment without being caught." Abe passed Henry on his way to the cabinets. "Why don't you stay here until Mike, Lt. Reece, and Lucas can gather enough evidence to bust this guy?"

"Abe." Henry shook his head slightly. "We can't endanger you and Fawn." His voice cracked. "I…."

Abe spun around and planted his hand on his hip. "That was your original plan, Pops. We still have the burner phone Adam gave you last year right before his threat against Jo sent you to Belgium. You can call out on that. I'm sure Lt. Reece will find a way to step up patrol without endangering your neighbor. And, with Jo being over so much, no one would think twice about it. If anything, they would think that you've taken a romantic vacation and are toying with the idea of living together." He studied his father. "I don't see why you can't trust your gut on this one."

Henry glanced at Jo. "What if…?"

His eyes drifted down to the spot where Jo's badge usually rested on her waist. He looked back up at her as she nodded her agreement.

" _I am a trained law enforcement officer, and I knew what I was getting myself into when I signed up for the academy. I am prepared for whatever happens."_

He swallowed. She might be prepared to face death should the time come, but he wasn't prepared to see her make that decision.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth as he mulled over Abe's words. Abe was right, though. As far as he knew, Captain Sheridan hadn't discussed his consistent assignment to Jo with Dr. Lippmann yet. The NYPD's and OCME's rumor mills would provide them with some cover if Jo's boss asked about seeing them on the Lower East Side. If they encountered either Sheridan, they could always brush off any sighting of them in The Viele as visiting a friend.

"What about explaining why we're not at work? Our absence is already noticed, and people have likely asked our friends where we were within the first week of their ordeal."

"We can discuss that and how we're going to move back in here during breakfast." Jo's voice called to him. He turned and met her gaze.

Pointing at the dish, she grinned at him. "If this casserole gets cold, we don't have a microwave to warm it back up. I don't think any of us want to wait about half an hour for it."

"Coming, _cariña_." He opened the refrigerator door, seized the pitcher, and took it out. Closing the door, he returned her smile.

Once at the table, he set the juice down and helped Jo settle in his seat. He slid into the chair next to her. Glancing up, he noticed Abe doing the same for Fawn. His chest filled with warmth. As much as he questioned how he failed his son as a father, he couldn't be more proud of Abe regarding his relationship with his lover.

Henry passed the fruit salad to Jo while Abe handed Fawn the casserole. He didn't know why, but he could see them doing this for as long as they were together.

He felt Abe's eyes on him. He turned to his son. A bemused look crossed the young man's face.

"What's this about you eating microwaved food?"

* * *

She could not have imagined this. Never in a million years.

Lt. Reece summoned her courage and emerged from the elevators. She had dreaded this moment since Henry had texted— _texted!_ —her and Mike to inform them of his suspicions about Dexter's death. Now, she had no idea how, but Captain Sheridan was determined to meet with her.

The city's rooftops emerged as she passed the windows. She stopped and stared out at them, knowing that she couldn't see the Upper West Side from her location. She didn't want to send her best detective and the best medical examiner whom they had worked with away, perhaps for eternity. Yet, their safety precluded her desire to keep them in New York permanently.

She checked her watch. She shouldn't keep Captain Sheridan waiting.

She wove her way through the hallways until she reached her superior's office. Noting the receptionist deep in conversation with someone on the other end of the phone, Lt. Reece took a deep breath. _Here goes everything_.

Hoping the other woman wouldn't notice her expression, Lt. Reece strolled up to the desk. The other woman hung up the phone and looked up at her.

"Can I help you?"

She straightened her dress jacket. "I'm Lt. Joanna Reece from homicide. Captain Sheridan wanted to meet with me."

The receptionist picked up the phone again and pressed the button for Captain Sheridan's office. As the other woman discussed her appearance, Lt. Reece studied the papers in front of her. If anything related to their case was on it, she couldn't tell.

The receptionist nodded, hung up the phone, and met the lieutenant's eyes. "You may go in."

Lt. Reece thanked the woman. Once she was out of the receptionist's eyesight, she squared her shoulders and braced herself for the conversation.

She knocked on the door. "Captain Sheridan, you wanted to see me?"

The tall man with salt-and-pepper hair motioned her to come in. She studied her superior and resisted the temptation to shake her head. He was a decade younger than she was, but he had made captain long before her. Rumor had it that he had a connection to one of their superiors, maybe even the police chief himself, and had convinced them to promote him early. She wasn't sure if the rumors were true, but she had more important things to do than to look into them further.

She approached his desk and took a seat. She hoped that he wouldn't see her nervousness.

He trained his gaze onto her. "What do you know about Detective Martinez's absence? She hasn't reported to work in about a month. Is she ill or something?"

"I honestly don't know." Lt. Reece's mouth dried out, tickling her throat. She resisted the temptation to cough. "It's been a stressful few months for my detectives because of the increased caseloads the police commissioner had put on us. I suppose she took some much needed time off to recoup."

He chuckled. "Personally, I disagree with his decision. This precinct already has the highest arrest rates and closed case rates in the city. We certainly didn't need the extra work. I can't blame her if she wanted to take a vacation."

Lt. Reece's muscles begun to uncoil. Maybe she was wrong about the reason she was here.

Captain Sheridan shuffled some papers. "Do you know if she was working on another investigation into Dexter Chapman's death before she left?"

The blood in Lt. Reece's veins froze. "I don't believe so." She willed herself to maintain her gaze on her superior and to keep her tone of voice even. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." The black in his eyes grew wider. "I don't see why she has reopened an already solved case."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"I believe you do. A crime scene photograph from the case's evidence box turned up missing at the same time you requested CSU to process an apartment in The Viele. The next day, Detective Martinez didn't report for work, and she hadn't returned to her house in Washington Heights. In addition, you received several calls and a text message from her over the past month. I believe that she remembered something about the case, became emboldened by her work with the renegade Dr. Morgan downstairs, and convinced you to reopen the investigation."

The hair on Lt. Reece's arms stood on end. Man, she wished that she was facing Adam again. At least, with him, she knew what he could do to her people.

Captain Sheridan kept his eyes on her. "I would like for you to tell her to drop her investigation and to focus her attention elsewhere."

Lt. Reece willed herself to not react. "What will happen if I refuse?"

"I will fire you, her, and her usual partner. Then, I will track Detective Martinez down myself and charge her and whomever she is working with with obstruction of justice and interference in a police investigation."

Her blood boiling at his words, Lt. Reece squared her shoulders and leaned forward. "If you do, every homicide detective here will follow me out the door." Mike would talk Lucas and half of the OCME into joining them. "And if you harm her, you _will_ have the entire NYPD, the DA offices for both the city and the state, and the FBI breathing down your neck. I will make sure of that."

Captain Sheridan smirked. "I don't think so. Officers know they don't challenge their superiors." He leaned back in his chair. "Let me know when you contact Detective Martinez again."

Lt. Reece pushed herself out of her chair and ensured that she kept her gait even until an empty elevator arrived on the floor. Once inside the car, she stifled a growing scream and growled. How could the universe, or God, or fate, or whoever be so unfair? She couldn't lose Jo and Henry to this guy. And she couldn't afford to lose her job as, so far, it was the only thing keeping one very psychopathic immortal from terrorizing the city.

The doors opened, revealing her floor. She took another deep breath to steady her emotions and strolled to her office. Before she closed the door, she peered out at the hustle and bustle of the floor. Just beyond her, Mike took a call on another case that he was pursuing.

She sighed. These were some of the finest people she had ever worked with. She wouldn't know what to do if she couldn't work with them anymore.

She closed the door behind her, walked over to her coffee pot, and poured herself a mug. She took it back to her desk and let it warm her hands. She wished that there was a way to keep everyone connected to the case safe. She, however, must consider the possibility of sending them away for their sakes.

The phone rang. Lt. Reece almost jumped at the sound. She picked it up and braced herself for another call from Captain Sheridan.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Ma'am." An unfamiliar masculine voice greeted her. "My name is Ryan Fugate. Two of your detectives suggested I should talk to you about a case which they're investigating."

Lt. Reece's heart jumped and then pounded wildly at the mention of Henry and Jo. She peeked at the door and lowered her voice. "Listen, I can't talk here. Do you mind sending a text about it to my personal phone?"

"Why? What is the matter?"

"It's a long story." Catching herself, she bit back her laughter at her use of Henry's words. "I'll tell you about it in a text back. I promise."

After giving Ryan her number and hanging up the phone, she looked up at the ceiling. She hoped that Captain Sheridan didn't find out about this call. She would never forgive herself if something were to happen to Ryan or to the people she cared about.

vvv

"Well, this and what the men are bringing up is the last of it."

Jo accepted Henry's satchel and her small suitcase from Fawn and set them on the kitchen table. She smiled at the older woman. "You don't know how much we appreciate this."

"I would do anything for the three of you." Fawn peered back over her shoulder. "To tell you the truth, I don't know you very well, but, through Abe's stories about you and your work with Henry, you feel like family to me."

Jo's cheeks warmed. Her mouth opened and closed several times. "I don't know what to say."

"What? I don't know why you believe it's best for Jo's car to remain at Katz's. It would be safer if it were parked in her townhouse's garage."

"Pops, it's the modern way. It will lend authenticity to our cover for the two of you. Besides, this Captain Sheridan guy has probably already tossed her house."

Henry appeared on the top step with the box of photographs in his hands. "I suppose you're right." He headed for the table and set the package next to his satchel. "It's not much different than when your mother and I had first moved in together." He chuckled. "Even if neither of us had a car at the time."

He smiled and met Jo's eyes as Abe took the box with his coffee pot in it to the counter next to the stove. "Where do you want me to stash Lucas' handiwork?"

Jo spun around and looked around her. She could see a place for the photo of them in Paris, but everything else would have to remain in hiding.

She rolled her tongue in her mouth. She had stumbled upon his box of photos and passports when she had searched the basement, but she couldn't take them into evidence as Homeland Security had deemed the train crash to be an accident. Since then, Henry had confided that he had moved it to a safer location. What if…?

She returned his gaze. "We can keep the picture of Paris out, but everything else can go where you keep your passports."

He unpacked the photograph in question, lifted the box, and started for the stairs leading up to the rooftop. "I'll be right back."

She watched him as he disappeared into the space above her. Why didn't she think of their attic?

Jo picked up the frame and brushed her hand over it. What she wouldn't give for Henry to whisk her there.

"Nice picture." Fawn's voice almost made Jo jump. "Lucas did an excellent job."

"He certainly did."

She strolled into the living room and set the picture on the coffee table next to the double French doors. She stepped back and crossed her arms. It fit right in with the rest of Henry and Abe's personal photographs.

She sauntered over to the mantle and found the photo that she had returned to Henry years ago. She picked it up off the mantle. Henry had said that he had taken him a while to propose to Abigail. How long did it take him to know that he wanted to marry her, though? Was it months? Or did it take their crashing Gloria Carlyle's party for him to wake up to his desire for a life with her?

Before Jo could ponder it much more, Henry's footfall echoed on the stairs. She set the picture back in its spot and returned to the kitchen. Her heart leaped in her chest the moment she met his eyes. She didn't know about him, but she hoped that their time together here would reveal whether they were ready to take the plunge. She already knew she did.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Yes, Abe did wear diapers. The information is from Dirty Diaper Laundry's "History of Cloth Diapers Timeline" and Diaper Jungle's "A Brief History of Cloth Diapers".

In the Pilot, Mike mentions that the NYPD had already notified Homeland Security about the train crash and that they had ruled out terrorism before he and Jo enter the car Henry dies in. I'm not sure if anyone caught that or remembers that.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** It will be a little technical in the beginning, but has a great graphic representation of the game Henry and Abe play. Look up Levitsky versus Marshall (1912). Click on the second picture next to #19 (horse/knight d4) on the list under the game and go from there. The queen is the more traditional crown, the rook is the castle, and the pawn is the more standard game piece. Bishops are the papal hat, and the king is the fancy crown. (The pieces, which direction they move, and the number of spaces they can move are about the extent of my chess knowledge.)

I hope you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

Perhaps the only thing more frustrating than a lack of leads in a case was the inability to see his next move.

Henry stared at the placement of pieces on the chess board as though they could hint at a specific course of action. He blew some air out of his nose. So far, it was of no use.

He whipped himself out of his chair and stepped over to the tea set beside them. Pouring his cup and adding his milk and a lump of sugar, he pursed his lips together. His mind was a meditative garden whenever his son challenged him to a game. Today, though, his thoughts were more like a fog hovering over a stormy sea at night.

Hoping for some clarity, he gazed out the window and sipped his tea. The sun skipped across the tops of the vehicles as they slowed and stopped at the nearby traffic signal. Couples passed by the window, their arms caressing each other's waists. It was an otherwise normal day for the city.

His heart ached. As their move yesterday had kept them occupied, Jo was upstairs updating Lt. Reece of the latest development. Perhaps she could finish their conversation and join the men downstairs.

Henry closed his eyes. An arm slipped around his waist, and a hand settled on his shoulder. A whiff of coconut and hibiscus wafted into his nostrils as Jo's lips brushed his cheek. He set his teacup on the saucer to keep the remainder of the precious liquid from spilling onto the floor.

"Do you care to go downstairs for a few moments alone?" His husky voice rumbled through him.

A snicker pierced the air. Henry opened his eyes. His heart sank as her presence faded as suddenly as it appeared. The moment was so real. How was it possible for it to be otherwise?

Taking another sip, Henry turned back to his son. Abe studied the chess board, his curled index finger resting against his lips. When he thought that the immortal wasn't looking, he furtively peeked at the older man.

Henry tilted his head. Abe was not feigning obliviousness to the results his father's vivid imagination as convincingly as he assumed. Perhaps he should admit it before he carried the charade any further.

Henry carried his teacup back to the table and set it beside the board. He moved around the furniture, draped an arm around Abe, and leaned over his son's shoulder to study the pieces. He bit his lower lip and then smiled. He could easily take Abe's queen with his knight.

"I swear you do this to distract me." Abe refused to take his eyes off the board.

"I wouldn't dream anything of it." Unfolding himself, Henry kissed Abe on the forehead, squeezed the younger Morgan's shoulder, and returned to his seat.

"You do it every time I stump you. Maybe I should move the tea set elsewhere to stop your attempts at cheating."

Henry glared at Abe. Nothing came between him and his tea. Furthermore…. "Two hundred years of experience at playing the game hardly qualifies as cheating."

Abe gestured at the board. "Well, can we get back to it?"

Henry moved his knight to challenge Abe's queen. Abe positioned the piece halfway between his bishop and Henry's pawn on the left edge of the board.

Henry glanced at his son and then the pieces. That was how Abe planned to win this time.

"I take it things got a little hot and heavy when you were on the Upper West Side."

Henry's cheeks warmed. "Abraham." He locked eyes with the younger man. "I'm not discussing this now."

He set his rook to the square next to his king. He crossed his arms and stared at the desk behind Abe. He valued Abe's advice, untainted by the transgressions accumulated over a very long existence. Perhaps he could trust his son with this matter of the heart.

He met Abe's eyes. Abe removed his hand from the white rook.

Henry tilted his head. "Jo and I have grown very intimate, emotionally and intellectually, during our stay there."

"Judging from what just happened and from your kisses and furtive glances at each other since you got back, I'd say you've become more intimate physically as well." Abe placed his rook one square to the left.

"It's not like that." Henry chuckled as he examined the arrangement. "But, yes, we're much more comfortable with each other in that regard than when we had left here."

"And?" Abe mirrored the immortal's posture.

Henry heaved a sigh and settled his rook between his pawn and Abe's queen. Admittedly, this was a first for him, and he didn't see an excellent way to broach the topic.

He returned to his original position. "What do you think of Jo?"

"As a woman or…?" Abe scooted his queen over one space to the right.

Henry nodded and tilted his head. "As someone significant in our lives."

Abe leaned back and studied the old man. "Why are you asking me this?"

 _I might as well come right out and say it_. "A part of me—a considerable part of me—has been contemplating a future with her." Henry offered Abe a lopsided smile. "I'm not replacing your mother. No woman will ever take her place in our hearts."

He broke his gaze to ponder his next words. "I want to spend every possible moment with Jo for as much time as we have left together, but I keep hearing my father's voice admonishing me to weigh my lover's qualities against what I desire in a wife." It happened twice more since Jo's proposal to share a bedroom in their new apartment. "Truth be told, I haven't gotten very far yet."

Abe burst into laughter. "Granddad Robert interrupted you in ways that make my interruptions look like child's play?"

Henry bowed his head in a desperate effort to cool the heat in his cheeks. "You could say that."

Abe wiggled in his seat to make himself more comfortable. "Well, let me play the devil's advocate." He looked his father in the eye. "I'm not saying Granddad Robert was evil. Wrong and immoral, yes, but not the epitome of evil."

"Point taken."

"Jo's becoming like a third mother to me, and I think you're very well suited for each other." Abe leaned forward. "But, what do _you_ think about her as a wife?"

Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. "She's one of the strongest women I've ever known." His mind raced back to their first year of working together and the revelation of his condition. "She has been remarkably patient with me over the past four years. Her integrity had forced me to reconsider my position on various aspects of my condition. I have to admit that I am a different man because of her influence in my life."

His memories flowing past him, he smiled and turned toward the window. "Her intelligence, compassion, and creativity knows no bounds."

His mind slowed down at their trips to Paris and Belgium. "She's adventurous, and travel suits her very well."

He chuckled at the memory of her interest in the buildings of both cities. "She's fascinated by my stories from the past. Perhaps more so than your mother…or any woman I had known. It's almost as if she is an old soul who longs to return home, and she had found a kindred spirit in me."

He took a sip of his tea as he saw their cases once again. "She has been one of the finest professional partners, official or otherwise, I've ever worked with. She accepts my theories while we're in the field, and she takes great delight in watching me reenact a crime. Her powers of observation are _par excellence_."

"… _empirically speaking, detective, you're quite hot."_

"She is certainly one of the loveliest women I've seen." His heart started to race. He took a deep breath and faced Abe again. "Aside from your mother, Jo is the only other woman who readily puts me under her spell whenever we are together."

"What about her domestic skills?" Abe's smile faded. "I'm not going to be around to cook for you forever."

The familiar tinge that accompanied Abe's mention of his fate stabbed Henry's heart. He willed himself to breathe.

"She's an excellent cook, even when she microwaves a meal." Henry held Abe's gaze. "I'm not saying that her cooking supersedes yours and Abigail's, but Jo's has its own culinary delights." Much like the breakfast casserole which had enticed everyone to help themselves to a second serving the past two mornings. "She permits me to assist her in our domestic duties. She appears content to let me handle the dusting."

He reached up at his collar, his fingers longing for the hand-crafted scarf which she had gifted him. He smiled at Abe. "Surprisingly, she's a talented knitter for a beginner. You should see the scarf which she had knitted throughout the month. It is magnificent."

" _Jo's becoming like a third mother to me…."_

The sight of her caring for Armen Aronov's grandson overlapped with the memory of her and Abe at breakfast this morning. "She is excellent with children, no matter their age."

Abe leaned forward, taking care not to disturb the chess pieces. "Are they things that you want in a wife?"

Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth as he compared his comments to the traits which had always prompted him to contemplate building a life with a woman. His eyes widened. How had his desire for intimacy blind him to it?

He met Abe's eyes. "Yes, I do." He grinned even wider. "I do."

"Then, what's stopping you from popping the question?"

Henry stammered. Searching for his words, he looked around the retail space and then at the door separating it from their living quarters. His voice and Jo's drifted downstairs, their conversation focused on their covers.

He closed his eyes for a second. He had assumed that he had resolved to fight whatever Captain Sheridan would bring them. Why was it coming back now?

Abe waited for a reply. Henry opened his eyes and sighed. "The hiding and the lying that is necessary to protect us from those with nefarious motives. I…."

"That didn't stop you from marrying Mom."

"For your mother, life was a journey. As long as we were together, she didn't mind it much." Henry averted his eyes and willed his emotions to refrain themselves from spilling over. "This time, it's different." He summoned his courage and tried to look at Abe. "Jo hated it when she and Sean were married, and we're doing it again for her sake. I want to find a way to protect her while leading a normal life, but…."

Abe held the old man's gaze. "This time, you have the entire NYPD behind you. I highly doubt Lt. Reece will let anyone touch Jo and you. And if they do, they will live to regret it."

Henry bowed his head and swallowed back his tears. "I hope so." Given Captain Sheridan's position, he doubted that the entire department would defy their superior.

Abe reached over and patted Henry's arm. "In the meantime, don't take your time in letting her know your intentions. You may have all the time in the world, but she doesn't. Since you love her, you might as well ask her to marry you."

Gloria Carlyle's advice echoed in Abe's words. Henry stared at his son. How had he become wise beyond his years?

Henry's emotions raced their way to the surface. He looked back at the board to calm himself. Spying Abe's error, Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. He had seen this particular endgame during a short stay in Breslan, Germany, over a century ago. Frank James Marshall's move had impressed him so much that he had handed the American chess master a gold coin after the match as a token of his admiration of the man's genius.

Henry moved his rook in position to take Abe's pawn. Abe countered by moving his rook toward his queen. Henry set his queen next to his rook.

Abe raised his hand and laid his finger in front of his mouth as he studied the pieces. Henry finished his now lukewarm tea and carried the saucer back to its companions. He smiled. It was a gamble, but watching Abe puzzle it out would be worth it.

He slid back into his seat, crossed his arms again, and leaned over them. Abe raised an eyebrow at the risk he took if he attempted to capture his father's queen with either his queen or two of his pawns.

Abe leaned forward and stared at his father. "You set up a trap for me."

"Why would I do such a thing?" Henry's lips curled up.

"Don't act innocent with me. You knew you could trap me by bringing your rook and queen together."

"I had no intention to do so." He bit back his smile. "I merely saw your mistake and capitalized on it."

"You know very well what I mean."

Henry pivoted his head away to stifle a laugh. A young boy appeared beside the table. His brown eyes, shaped like Jo's, shone as he stared at the pieces.

He turned to Henry. "Daddy, can I play with you and Abe?"

Henry studied the lad. He was almost the same age that Abe was when he had first started playing. Maybe….

Jo strolled over to them and took the boy's hand. "David, let your dad and brother finish their game. You can play with them later."

Henry's eyes traveled down to the boy's curly hair and Longsworth cheekbones. Before he could admire nature's choices for their son's appearance, his eyes darted to Jo. He gaped at the slight bump in her abdomen. He swore that he saw the child inside her move.

He spun around and positioned himself to leave his chair. If their son or daughter moved again, he must be there to feel the kick against his hand.

Abe's laugh echoed in Henry's ears. Before he could turn to his son to glare at him, mother and child vanished into thin air.

Henry's lungs tightened. He gulped in a breath. This wasn't like him. He was a rational man. Was he somehow peering into his and Jo's future? If so, how? If not, why was he hallucinating as of late?

He settled back into his chair and faced Abe. His lips impertinently curled upward.

"Daydreaming about Jo again?"

Henry blinked and shook his head to clear the cobwebs out of his mind. _Daydream_. Yes, that had to be it. His vivid imagination was running away with him.

"I…."

"What was it about this time?"

"I would rather not say." He took several deep breaths to steady his nerves.

"It wasn't something bad, was it?" Abe pivoted and readied himself to assist his father.

Henry shook his head. "It was quite pleasant."

"But…?"

The door on the other side of the room whooshed, and footsteps moved toward them. Henry closed his eyes. _Please don_ _'t let it be another hallucination. I don't think that I can bear another one now. If it is, perhaps I should set up an appointment with Kimberley at Bellevue to discuss it with her_ _. At least, this time, my concern's more normal._

A presence sent an electric tingle through his body, and a hand squeezed his shoulder. The slight fragrance of coconut and hibiscus filled the room. He summoned his courage and braced himself for what awaited him.

He opened his eyes. Standing beside him was Jo. In the flesh.

His eyes watered. She had to be the most beautiful sight on Earth.

She met his eyes. "What is it, Henry? It looks like you just saw a ghost."

Inhaling, he blinked back his tears. He shouldn't bother her with his visions. She had enough to worry about now.

He offered her a small smile. "I was just thinking about us. That's all."

She kissed him on the cheek and positioned herself between the two men. She leaned back against the table, crossed her arms, and looked at them.

"Sorry I took so long." She smiled at Henry. "Lieu made me wait until she finished some business."

"You're here now." Henry returned her smile.

"What did Lt. Reece have to say?" Abe's voice cut through Henry's thoughts and cleared the vestiges of the reverie out if his mind.

"We need to text her on her private phone from now on if we need her."

"On her personal phone?" Henry's heart pounded against his scar. "Why?"

She blew out some air. "Captain Sheridan found out what we've been doing. He threatened to fire her, Mike, and me and arrest all of us for reopening the investigation into Dexter's death." She looked at Henry. "That includes you, Lucas, Jeff, Tori, Dr. Hawthorne, and Talbert."

"What?!" Henry wasn't sure if his voice or Abe's was louder.

"Can he do that?"

Henry glanced at Abe. As the OCME was separate from the NYPD, he had the same question.

"She, um, she was at the DA's office to talk to them about it. So far, they said they would get back to her." She brushed back a rebellious strand of hair. "Knowing them, though, they'll tell her that our involvement will be off the record just like they told me when I went to them about my suspicions about Dexter's death."

She bowed her head and bit her lower lip. Henry shoved himself out of the seat, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and nudged her.

His eyes roamed her watery brown ones. His heart broke. He hated seeing her like this.

"What is your gut telling you?" He had not believed in intuition's existence for the majority of his life. Knowing her, though, was convincing him that the ability was real and that he naturally possessed it as well.

She swallowed and wiped her eyes. "He's going to try to harm one of us." She looked away for a moment and gave him a small smile. "At least Ryan took our advice and headed to a hotel in Lower Manhattan. Maybe Captain Sheridan won't find him there."

"Maybe." He whispered.

Henry pulled Jo toward his chest. She wrapped his arms around him. As he rubbed her back, her rapid breathing slowed, and her heart resumed its normal pace.

A few moments later, she pulled away from him. The room's light danced on the amber specks in her brown eyes, drawing him into her gaze.

She smiled at him. "Did you and Abe finish your game?"

He grinned back at her. "Abe lost fair and square and doesn't want to admit it."

"He set a trap for me. No matter which way I take his queen, he takes my piece."

Henry turned back to Abe. "If you think protesting to Jo will help you win the next time we play, you couldn't be more wrong."

Jo brushed back a curl on his forehead. His breath quickened as her fingers set it in a more pleasing spot. If she wanted to spirit him away to a more secluded location, he would follow her there in a heartbeat.

"Care to explain how Abe lost?"

He tried to remember how their match went. He laughed. For the moment, she had erased it from his mind.

He twisted his torso toward the board. As he looked at the pieces, he retraced their moves. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. The queen might be the most powerful piece on the board, but, when trapped, she needed the other pieces to avenge her should the other side captured her.

Just like….

He swallowed. He wasn't ready to follow this line of reasoning through to one of its natural conclusions, but it appeared that he—and, by extension, they—had no choice to pursue it.

" _This time, you have the entire NYPD behind you….And if they do, they will live to regret it."_

He swallowed. He hoped that Abe was right. Jo was one of their own, and there should be more people who supported them instead of their murderous superior. If anything were to happen to her, though….

" _I am ready…."_

He took a deep breath and summoned his courage. It was risky, but it was a chance that they would have to take.

He turned back to Jo. His eyes roamed her expectant face. "I believe we might have a way out of our predicament."

vvv

" _Mad Libs_? I hadn't seen those in decades."

Jo peered over Abe's shoulder and smiled as she tried to imagine him, Fawn, and Lyle Ames passing a copy around and laughing at their creations. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that Abe had a fairly normal childhood. An accomplishment which Henry could not see when the threat of discovery had weighed heavily in his mind. Something that she and Henry would work to ensure for their own children when the time came.

Jo tilted her head at the books on the display table. How many times had she and her sister lost track of time while playing them?

 _Sara met Jo_ _'s eyes, and her laughter started again. Jo laid her finger on her lips. "Shh. You don't want Mama to hear us, do you?"_

" _No." One last giggle escaped. "Want to start a new game?"_

 _Grinning, Jo held out her hand, and Sara passed her the book and their pencil. She flipped it open to the next page._ _"Okay, give me a noun."_

" _Skylights."_

 _Jo stared at her sister._ _"Skylights?"_

" _It's the book we're using in school." She placed her hands on the edge of the bed and swung her legs over it._

" _You don't have to get it. I saw it yesterday when you brought it home from school."_

 _Jo stared at her sister. There would be no living with Sara if she didn_ _'t write the word down._

 _She bit her lower lip._ _"Okay. Skylights, then."_

 _She filled the word into its places. She re-read the sentence._ _"The skylights of a man…."_

 _Jo burst into laughter. Men didn_ _'t have skylights on their whatever the next word was._

" _Mijas, are you still up?"_

 _Jo swallowed her laughter._ _"No., Mama."_

" _It doesn't sound like it. Go to bed. It's a school night."_

" _Yes, Mama."_

 _Sara glared at Jo._ _"Jo…" she hissed._

 _Jo winked at her sister and smiled. She had no intention to going to bed any time soon._

 _She reached for the flashlight Papa told her to keep when they snuck out of the tenement late at night to pick up a broken electronic for repair. Her fingers wrapped around it and pulled it out from underneath her pillow. She motioned for Sara to turn out the lights. No way would Mama catch them again tonight. Not if she could help it._

Jo blinked, and their bedroom dissolved. She sighed. Sure, her life then was complicated because of the blond-haired bully who had pushed her down the stairs at her new school the next year and her subconscious worry about the police catching her father and her during one of his break-ins. Still, it was much simpler than this.

"Takes you back, huh?"

Abe straightened his back, forcing her to step back to avoid being hit. "Are you kidding me?" His distant eyes shined as he grinned like a ten-year-old again. "Fawn, Lyle, and I used to play these during recess all the time. We had a lot of fun with them."

He peeked back at the table. "Did you play them when you were growing up?"

She picked one up and flipped through it. "You have no idea how crazy my sister and I drove our mom. If we had our way, we would have spent half the night going through a book." Fortunately, adulthood brought its certain privileges.

" _Parsi—." Jo flipped the book shut and swatted it at Henry. It landed on his shoulder with a satisfying slap which echoed in her ears._

 _Before he could object, she leaned over and pressed her lips against his. She smiled at him as she pulled away. Her eyes followed the soft glow in his. What she wouldn_ _'t give to make this moment last forever._

Jo slowly lowered the book back on the display table. She hoped that they could make it to next week, let alone next year.

Abe stared at her, waiting for a response. She smiled at him. No way was she going to let Abe know one way she and his father had bonded while they were at The Viele.

"I assumed you would be here."

Jo spun around and grinned. Henry stepped toward them, his hands in his pockets. He returned her grin with one of his lopsided smiles.

He cast an eye toward the books and back at her. She bit back the growing giggles. For a guy who hadn't played in a very long while, he was really good at making her laugh at his answers.

The half-smile grew wider. Partially looking at Abe and partially in the past, Henry nodded toward the selection. "My siblings and I used to play it when I was younger. We truly enjoyed ourselves." He bowed his head and studied his sneakers. "I miss them", he whispered.

Abe raised his eyebrows. When Henry lifted his head, he caught his son's expression. A sternness spread across Henry's face. Abe nodded, seemingly content to hear the story later.

Henry peered over his shoulders. "Are you ready to leave?"

Jo took one last look and summoned her courage. "I guess." She turned back to Abe. "We'll see you at home."

He locked his eyes on her, his eyebrows betraying his worry. "Good luck. You'll need it."

She squeezed his shoulder. "Thanks."

A chill enveloped itself around her as she stepped away from the man who had been like family to her. She reached up to hold herself. She didn't want to leave the safety of the bookstore. No one would think about bothering them here.

Henry wrapped his arm around her and gently guided her toward the door. She leaned against him. She trusted him with her life when they were out in the field. She couldn't see a reason not to trust him now.

The afternoon sun nearly blinded Jo as they emerged from the store's depths. She blinked her eyes until they readjusted to the light.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can ask the DA's office to conduct your interview by phone if you would prefer."

She faced him. Swallowing the rising bile in her throat, she nodded.

"Because of my memory,—" which had felt like a game of _Mad Libs_ even since Lieu had discovered that photo on her desk, "—I had let Megan, Dexter, and Talbert down. I need to see it through now."

Henry pulled her closer to him. He leaned over, and his warm breath tickled her ear. "I'm not ready for this either."

They stopped at the intersection. Her eyes roamed his narrowed eyes and furrowed forehead. Her heart sank. She hated to see him like this. Until now, Adam was the only one to make Henry fear losing another loved one to a violent death. She wished that she could take this away from him.

The light signaled its permission for them to cross. She placed her hand on his chest. The bumps and ridges forming his scar called her back to the miracle in him. Even if something were to happen to her when Captain Sheridan made his move, Henry would keep her memory alive. It might take him decades to remember the good moments with her without his grief crashing down on him, but, if Abigail were any indication, he would eventually share their love story with another woman he loved.

"We'll survive." She had to be okay after this. They had to be okay. Things had to go right for their sake.

They passed the storefronts along White Street. She stopped and peered into one window lined with mannequins dressed in the store's latest offerings. Her breath caught in her throat when she spied a denim jacket on the female one. Their two-month anniversary was tomorrow. Maybe she could wear the same outfit that she had changed into for their first date. He had looked at her like she was a goddess. Except for Sean, no other man had made her feel like one.

Henry's reflection caught her attention. Jo tried to look him in the eye, but his distant gaze escaped her. She shook her head. If he was remembering that night as well….

She studied their reflection. They were so natural together. Almost as if they were made for each other. Maybe their relationship was meant to be.

He pulled her close to his chest and nudged her toward the next stop. "Let me take your mind off things for a moment. What do you want to do tomorrow?"

She sucked in some air. "How about a nice, quiet day at home? After the excitement of the past few days, I don't want to do much of anything."

He spent the rest of the walk to the next intersection in silence. "Okay. We'll do that." He offered her a lopsided smile. "I could prepare a dinner for us."

"I'll let you do that on one condition." She pointed her finger up to stop his objection. "Abe will have to vacate the premises for the evening."

Henry chuckled. "I suspect he'll quickly agree to it. When you were in the bookstore's bathroom, he had confided that he and Fawn have another date tomorrow night. If he doesn't stay with Fawn overnight, he likely would spend the remainder of the night elsewhere."

Her eyes widened, and she laughed. It didn't matter how Abe had entered Henry's life. He was his father's son.

The corners of the New York City Civil Court and the Manhattan Detention Center emerged from the city's depths. Jo's mood sobered, and she swallowed. She had worked with the DA's office on cases involving the utmost secrecy several times before, but not like this. She was accusing a high-level member of the NYPD of murder and a cover-up. He knew that she was working off the record both then and now, and he likely knew how many people were involved in the investigation. And she didn't know what was going to happen next.

She glanced at Henry. This, however, was a four-prong approach. They were talking to both New York DA's offices and the FBI. If the city or state couldn't obtain a conviction, the federal government possibly would.

In addition, Lieu was to call Captain Sheridan and tell him which neighborhood they were in. Henry had volunteered to serve as bait and to draw Captain Sheridan to a hotel in Lower Manhattan. Jo, however, had discouraged him due to the large number of people involved in the investigation. Since she was the true target, it made more sense for Captain Sheridan to find her instead of anyone else.

They waited only a moment for the traffic at Centre Street. She spied one of the unis emerging from the Manhattan Detention Center. The other man waved at them. Henry nodded back.

Jo nudged him and grinned as they pivoted toward the DA's office. "Someone you know?"

He turned to her. "Officer McCabe. He arrested me last year."

She threw her head back. That had to be the day Mike had found out about Henry's immortality. Since it was his first time even watching one of Henry's deaths, he didn't know Henry's frequent arrests were connected to it.

Jo's fingers traced a path along Henry's waist. How was he going to tell the DA about the events surrounding his death nine years ago? He could only give them everything up until his attack, but nothing more. The DA would suspect there was more to the story, and they could arrest Henry for withholding information if they discover the truth.

She bit back her groan. It wasn't fair. Henry might be immortal, but he was human too. He deserved justice as well.

"If you need me during your interview, I'll be there with you in spirit." Henry rubbed his hand along her waist.

Jo opened her mouth to thank him when a familiar, blond-haired figure crossed her vision. She tilted her head. It couldn't be, could it?

"Hank? Jane?" Emma's voice rose above the traffic as she joined them. "What brings you here? I thought you both had work."

" _I thought I knew you from somewhere else."_

Jo's mind raced through her and Henry's first encounter with the woman. She stifled her moan. The euphoria from her and Henry's first kiss and their suspicions about Emma must have blinded her to it.

Emma eyed them. Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. She sensed Henry doing the same.

She looked at him, and their first rooftop dinner flashed before her. Her eyes widened. She was pretty sure Robert wouldn't have minded what she was thinking if he knew how much it would mean to Henry. As for Abe, he would probably go along with it as long as he got a figurative shot at the man who had attacked his father.

She summoned her courage. "We're going to meet Hank's father at the restaurant at Broadway and Chambers in a couple of hours. We thought we would kill a little time by taking a walk around the neighborhood. What are you doing here?"

"I work around here. I just got off, actually."

Jo's heart pounded wildly in her ears. She was afraid of that.

Emma pointed toward the parking garage on Worth Street. "Mind if I joined you for a couple of blocks?"

Henry and Jo exchanged looks. She glanced toward the building. It wouldn't be too far out of their way. They could double-back after she left them, and Emma would be none the wiser.

They nodded at her. Jo shrugged, hoping that Emma didn't notice her nervousness. "Sure. Why not?"

Jo swallowed as they resumed their walk. Who was she kidding? Sean's former colleagues gossiped as much as the NYPD. They would tell Emma about their visit before Emma finished her coffee tomorrow morning.

"Hank," Emma's voice cut through Jo's thoughts. "What does your father do for a living? It must have inspired your desire for travel."

"He—." Jo cringed at Henry's American accent. "He was in the Army."

Emma's eyes widened. "The Army? So, you're an Army brat?"

Henry chuckle and bowed his head. "I guess you can say that. I didn't know of any other type of life before I moved to Cincinnati for college. I…."

As he continued, Jo cast a worried glance at him and hoped Emma wouldn't notice. He was going off-script in regards to his cover. What if Emma's colleagues revealed their true identities?

Jo stared straight ahead at the flowing traffic near Leonard Street. Then again, that was what they wanted. Maybe Emma telling her husband about them would lure him into their trap sooner than they had expected.

Emma laughed. Jo looked up at Henry. He was on a roll with his story. His eyes grew brighter as he delved deeper into his fictitious past.

Jo smiled when she caught his words. She could listen to him go like this all day.

At the next intersection, Emma stopped and pointed herself toward the garage. "I would love to say and listen to you some more, but this is my stop. We should get together soon and talk some more."

Jo found her voice. "We'll do that."

She watched the other woman until she disappeared into the crowd approaching the garage. How much longer will it be before Emma realized they had fooled her?

Henry leaned on Jo's shoulder. 'She's with the DA's office, isn't she?"

Jo slowly nodded. "What tipped you off?"

"Her vagueness about her occupation." He pulled Jo closer to him and rubbed her side. "We'll survive."

"I hope so."

Jo peered back at the stone-gray building. She squared her shoulders and summoned her courage. She had failed Megan and Dexter years ago, and it had caused them, and, by extension, Talbert, quite a bit of anguish. If this was her chance at redemption, she was taking it.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** The story about the match comes from the game's Wikipedia article. I looked up 1980s reading textbooks and came across _Skylights_. I'm not sure it's the one a school in East Harlem would use, but it's appropriate for the third grade. The full word Henry goes for during _Mad Libs_ is parsimonious.

I'm using the arrangement of the furniture in "The Last Death of Henry Morgan" for its placement in the shop's retail space.

I put a bookstore on White Street. Most of the ones I was looking for were too far away, were too close to the shop, or catered to a specific readership.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note** : This chapter and the next three are the final chapters. (Yeah, I'm surprised we're that close to the end myself.) I hope that you will enjoy this one.

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

Today felt different. Almost as if it was set aside for some other reason than their two-month anniversary.

Jo swept up the wet strands of hair next to her face into her hands and pulled them behind her head. Since she had woken up in Henry and Abe's spare bedroom this morning and remembered what day it was, her world had been transformed. The usually roaring engines of the outside traffic were muffled to the point of nonexistence. The food burst with flavor on her tongue. The dim sunlight bathed the contents of the apartment in a white splendor. Henry's voice made her float every time he spoke to her, and electricity flowed through her body under his touch. It had been almost as if the universe had recognized the sanctity of the day.

She turned her head from side to side, studying how the style framed her face. She frowned. Henry's jaw dropped when her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. For tonight, she wanted a style which would take his breath away.

She separated the strands, braided them, and drew them back again. She huffed. It was an improvement, but it didn't suggest "romantic". Maybe she should try something else.

She inserted her fingers through the braids and combed them out before taking her hair back into her hands again. She proceeded to try a low bun resting elegantly behind her neck. She formed a ponytail that caressed her neck and draped over her shoulder. She attempted to give herself bangs and swept her hair over one side. She divided her hair in half and let the halves fall over her shoulders as though she was the first woman to have ever walked the planet.

On a whim, she twisted and rolled her hair into Princess Leia buns. A laugh escaped from her and threatened to leave the room. She covered her mouth. Henry might have watched a little TV since their move a month ago, but there was no way he would get the reference to either _Star Wars_ or _Friends_.

Sighing, she unrolled her locks and let them fall where they wanted. She dropped her hands to the counter and stared at her rebellious mane. Every style that she had tried was rather ordinary. How was she going to find a hairdo which would blow Henry's mind?

Jo readjusted her towel. Her eyes caught the brown ones reflecting back at her. When Henry's eyes had locked onto them for the first time, she had almost forgotten who she was and why she had come to the morgue. Since then, every time he gazed into her eyes, she could feel him reading her soul as easily as he did Shakespeare's sonnets. The sensation was so deep that all she wanted to do was to let him continue until he was satisfied.

The air around her grew warm. She broke her gaze, and her eyes drifted down to her high cheekbones. She closed her eyes and hummed as his thumb grazed the skin over them. How many times had he taken her away to another world when his fingers brushed against the facial feature which he had once deemed "too high for his personal liking"? And how many times had she wished that she didn't have to leave that world when his fingers left her skin?

She indulged herself in the memory of his touch for a moment longer. When she opened her eyes, they landed on her unadorned lips. She ran her tongue over them. The first taste of his lips—in the form of the short, chaste kisses which he had given her—was intoxicating. Like a fine wine, his kisses grew sweeter with each passing day, and she could drink them in for as long as she lived.

Her heart and stomach fluttered. Her hand traveled to her neck and glided along it. She was still amazed that it had submitted itself to his gentle but firm touch. Try as she might, she—and even Sean during the few times which he had tried—had never been able to work out the kinks when she was stressed. Yet, Henry had managed to convince her neck to trust him, and the resulting relaxation pulled her into its sweet embrace.

She slid her hand down her bare, wet shoulders, following the path she felt Henry's hands take as her thoughts faded into oblivion during a massage. It didn't matter whether she was in a sleeveless blouse, a bathing suit, or in her towel. He always gazed at them in reverent silence, his eyes tracing a path along them as he admired their curves. If it were any other guy, she would have been tempted to shoot him. With Henry, though, it was almost as if he was spellbound by what he saw.

A strand of hair fell over her face. She caught it between her fingers, and Henry's fingers pursued hers as she brushed it back over her ear. She closed her eyes again. When he had brushed back her hair while they were sitting in East River Park, it had rendered her completely unable to do much of anything. Now, the caring touch had the power to transform her mind into an oasis of peace whenever she wanted.

She opened her eyes and took in her reflection. Her messy hair stood out against it. She smiled. Maybe she was overthinking it. He would be enchanted by whatever style she chose.

She tucked the towel's corner deeper into its spot and strolled to her bedroom. The aroma of the chicken tetrazzini drifted into the hallway. She breathed it in and closed her eyes as it took her mind away.

Her stomach grumbled, snapping her out of her trance. She moaned in delight. If she wanted some, she should hurry.

She sped toward the room, closed the door, and removed her outfit from the closet. She dried off and shimmied into her white dress.

Tugging the hemline down, Jo smiled. She still couldn't believe it had been two months since she had blurted out her feelings for Henry. Two months that had taken her from the first smile after she had told him she loved him to a strong desire to be his wife. As much as she had hated the circumstances which had forced the rapid deepening of their relationship, she wouldn't have it any other way.

" _This is far too early for us to consider the possibility of being joined together in matrimony."_

She slowly lifted herself up. She had assumed that he had wanted to properly court her until he was certain she would be a great fit for him. Was there a chance that she could have misinterpreted his hesitation about his willingness to marry her?

She gingerly stepped over to the bed, sank onto the mattress, pulled her denim jacket toward her, and bunched it up in her arms. The entire day today, she had sensed that something life-changing was going to happen…like a marriage proposal. How could she be so idiotic about his intentions? Even if the new Henry Morgan was actively contemplating a future with a wife and a family of his own again, his old nature likely was telling him that a marriage to her wouldn't be worth another round of heartbreaks for him.

She slapped her hand on the jacket. The past month's events had opened her eyes to the life which he had lived before his recent emotional awakening. Surprisingly, she had grown accustomed to the lying and the moves when she had reminded herself that they were necessary to protect him as much as they did her. With the advancements in cosmetic surgery and genetics, they could convince people that he was as old as she was for a very long while. His new cover story wasn't far from the truth, so she wouldn't have to lie like she had when she was married to Sean. How could she let Henry know that, this time, a marriage wouldn't be as painful for him as he believed?

" _I haven't felt this free in centuries…."_

Jo's heart skipped in her chest. Then again, maybe she shouldn't worry about his wounds from his past. From what she had seen over the past month, his new outlook on life was very much alive and well…and likely to survive for a very long time to come. For once in his long life, he was finally free to create the future that he wanted.

She huffed. That future might include her, but he hadn't had that long to court her. Two months wasn't enough time to decide whether he wanted to build a life with her….

" _Abigail and I had a wonderful life together, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I hope that I can build the same with you."_

Her breath caught in her throat. A man who wanted to continue dating without a thought about marriage would never say that….

"… _we have invited you to make this every much of your home as it is Abe's and mine…."_

Jo looked around at the brick wall and the two regular walls which Abe had installed to create the room in the 1990s. Her heart fluttered and then pounded in her chest. Whether he realized it or not, Henry had regarded her life with him as home back when he had assumed she would have had more in common with Nora than Nora's year as a widow. Giving her a key and inviting her to treat the shop as she would her house in Washington Heights was the next logical step. Surely….

The look on his face when she had interrupted Henry and Abe's chess game yesterday flashed in front of her. Her lips parted, and her eyes widened. She had immediately recognized the same relief on Henry's face that she had seen after she had crashed near the Mosholu Parkway exit years ago. Yet, something else danced behind his eyes. Something that she had never seen in him before. Now, she knew what it was.

A desire to be with her…

…for the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath. Was it possible? Could he be interested in marrying her, but he hadn't found the courage to come out and say it yet? If so….

The smell of the chicken tetrazzini grew stronger. She slipped on her jacket, fetched her boots, and put them on. She knitted her eyebrows together in thought. She had waited for nine months for him to say that he was immortal, and, when she had arrived at the shop with the picture and his watch, she had vowed she would let him take his time to tell her the full story. This should be no different.

She reached up and combed her hair with her fingers. They caught in the knots which had formed during her styling. Most of their romantic moments had occurred when she had worn her hair down. Tonight should be no different.

She pushed herself off the bed, brushed her hair, and strolled to the kitchen. Once the living quarters emerged into view, her knees buckled under her. She gingerly walked over to the banister and set her hand on it to keep herself from falling. Bouquets graced the island and the dining room table. A long, white box with a red ribbon tied around it laid next to her place setting.

Henry carried a casserole bowl over to the table and set it down, taking care to not disturb the flowers. She stared at him. When did he have the time to do this? With the exception of bathroom breaks and her shower, she had barely left his side all day.

He sauntered back to the island and placed the oven mitts on it. Noticing her presence, he looked up. As his eyes traced her figure, her lips parted, and her breath raced her heart. She had aimed for him to look at her like she was an angel. Instead, he was looking at her as though she was divinity.

Her stomach grumbled again. She mentally shook the cobwebs out of her head. Dinner was getting cold, and all of his hard work would be ruined if they reheated the meal.

She strolled over to him and caressed his cheek. "When did you do all this?" She nodded toward the flowers on the table.

He opened and closed his mouth several times. "A…." He cleared his throat. "Abe helped me order the flowers online yesterday, and they arrived when you were in the shower. I requested that they deliver it at the back entrance so you wouldn't see it. Do you like them?"

"I love them." She spied the box on the table. "Are those what I think they are?"

"Why don't you go and find out?" He flashed her one of his lopsided smiles.

As she eased her way around him, Jo peeked back at Henry. The night was still young, and anything could happen. Even if they enjoyed themselves, it was good. It was their anniversary, and she had every intention to enjoy it.

* * *

Tonight, everything was perfect.

Henry snuck a peek at Jo as he took another bite of his chicken tetrazzini. Ever since she had suggested that they spend the day at home and that they should dine on the entrée in the near future, he had wondered how he would prepare the meal while permitting her to rest. Fortunately, Abe had volunteered to assist him with cutting up the ingredients after Jo had retreated to her bedroom for the night. Once she had gone to the shower and selected a fresh outfit, he had assembled the meal with greater ease than he had expected.

She entwined her fingers around the base of a red rose, leaned over, closed her eyes, and smelled it. He smiled. From the way she had smiled when she had mentioned the long-stemmed roses which Isaac Monroe had left on her desk years ago, Henry had assumed that it was her favorite flower. While he and Abe searched for the bouquets to decorate the apartment, he had spied the roses on the screen and proceeded to add them to the order. He had believed she would enjoy them, but he had not thought she would love them so much.

He lowered his fork onto the plate. The fading sunlight bathed her in a golden glow as she reached for her wine. Her wavy, dark brown locks swayed with her movements, tempting him to reach over the table and comb one behind her ear. If that was not enough, the alluring fragrance of her shampoo created images of them walking down the beach, their hands entwined as they basked in the other's presence.

His heart stealing his breath, he averted his eyes to the staircase leading to the rooftop terrace. Perhaps the blast of cold air greeting him when he had attempted to take the place settings upstairs was a disguised benefit. The rumbles of traffic, the voices of bar-goers, and the aromas of matzo balls, red sauce, and jerk chicken would have overpowered them, and the neighborhood's usual pleasantries would have ruined the evening.

A glint of light hit his eye. He bowed his head, scoffed, and slightly shook his head. He could have sworn that he had pulled it off when he had retired to his bedroom the other night. Leaving his wedding band on must have become a habit once again.

Henry lifted his head and turned back to Jo. His lips parted. It was rare to find a good woman, and, in his case, it was miraculous that he should find two good women during his life. When he had first spotted Jo in his morgue, he had never imagined that he would find her to be a help meet for him. Over the course of the past two months, fate had opened his eyes to her suitability as his companion for another leg of his journey through life. And he was looking forward to seeing what the future held for them.

His eyes wandered into the living room and found the photo of them supposedly in Paris. They could honeymoon there, and they could swing by Agra and visit the Taj Mahal. Afterward, they could decide if they wanted to return to the shop and remain there until Abe's wedding to Fawn, settle in her townhouse in Washington Heights, or find another residence elsewhere in the city. Of course, they must inform their friends and her family of the new home….

"… _I loved him…. I hated the fact that I couldn't let anyone know anything about him or where we lived…. "_

Henry swallowed the last of his bite of tetrazzini and wiped his mouth. He turned his focus onto the edge of the plate. He shouldn't have been so presumptuous in his imaginings. She would never agree to a life filled with lies and flights whenever she was threatened. The guilt from leaving Ryan behind and the few times in which he had caught her swallowing back the truth had affected her in almost the same way his own moves and covers had affected Abe. Even if he promised her a normal life and attempted to make it so, she would always know that the need to lie about their life or to lie low elsewhere was never far away.

"What?"

He startled as her voice cut through his thoughts. Looking at her, he summoned his courage. "Do you hate this?"

"Do I hate what?"

He willed himself to maintain his gaze on her. "What we had been through lately. You had once stated you hated hiding your life with Sean from everyone. I had wondered if you had felt the same about us."

She wiped her mouth and laid her napkin in her lap. She then crossed her arms, leaned over them, and sighed. "I'm not going to lie to you. I hated using our cover and the feeling of leaving Ryan behind." She glanced away for a moment. "I had accepted it because it was the only way to save our lives."

Henry's heart sank. He studied his napkin in his lap. As much as he didn't want to, perhaps it was best if they broke up soon. Her work in law enforcement was as vital to her as his work with the OCME was to him. He couldn't ask her to abandon her life's calling so they could have a chance at a normal life together.

He dared to look back at her. The moment he did, she held his gaze and gave him a small smile. "But I have a much better idea of what your life was like until recently. I now see how much guilt you are still dealing with decades and centuries after leaving your friends and patients behind. The amount of hate you poured into yourself every time you lied about your life, even it's to protect Abigail, Abe, and, lately, me. How much fear you experienced every time someone confronted you about an aspect of your condition. How you-doubted yourself when you wanted marriage and a family. The past month has made me appreciate your feelings when we had first met and your emotional awakening two months ago even more."

His heart started pounding against his chest wall. How was it possible for her to reach back into their past and to show him his former nature? To demonstrate to him that his old habits and ways of thinking were finally dead and that he was indeed a new man? That it was possible for him to give her the life which she truly deserved?

She reached around their meal and took his hands into her petite ones. "As long as there are psychopathic immortals on the loose and scientists looking to profit off of your immortality, I'm still going to worry about your safety." Her eyes roamed his. "But I want to see what type of life we can build together. If it's anything like what we've experienced over the past month, it would be bliss."

His eyes roamed hers. Could he dare to think it? Was she contemplating the idea of them being joined in matrimony?

The longer he gazed into her eyes, the more his spirits soared. The two of them together for as long as fate would allot them?

"… _what's stopping you from popping the question?"_

Henry closed his eyes. To answer Abe's question, nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He reached for his wine glass and took a sip. The images of her guiding their youngest son back upstairs and seeing the child within her move flashed before him. His cheeks flushed. He still couldn't believe that he had embarrassed himself in front of Abe when he had acted upon the vision.

Henry set the wine glass back on the table, twisted his body toward her, and laid his hands in his lap. He studied her. He had once admitted his vivid imagination to her, and she generally was pleased with its results. Perhaps he should tell her about this.

He huffed and summoned his courage once again. "Have you been daydreaming recently?"

Jo set her glass down. "Why are you asking that?"

He rolled his tongue in his mouth. "Do you remember when you had told me yesterday it appeared that I had seen a ghost?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"I believe I was daydreaming about our lives together moments before." He chuckled. "Or else fate had allowed me a glimpse into our future." Or he was hallucinating, which he was not entirely ruling out.

She opened and closed her mouth several times. Before he could decide whether she was in shock or denial, she burst into laughter.

His blood froze, and his muscles tightened. Was the notion that ridiculous?

She leaned forward, propped her elbow on the table, and rested her index finger over her lips. "That…." An additional giggle escaped from her lips.

"Oh, wow. I—."

Sensing his confusion, she met his gaze. "Are we talking about seeing our future children and making a good memory together?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes. I…."

His mind ran through their words. His jaw fell open, and his body's grip on the chair slackened. "Did you experience one as well?"

Grinning, she nodded. "When we crossed 79th Street on the way here. It was so real. I saw us, a son and a daughter, and Abe and Fawn walking toward the nearby park. In case you're wondering, Abe and Fawn were married." She studied him. "What was yours about?"

"Our son asking Abe and me if he could play chess with us. You came downstairs to take him back to the apartment, and I saw the babe in you move. I started to rise from my seat to feel the kick when Abe's laughter brought me back to my senses." He bowed his head. "My imagination's vivid, but I didn't think it was that active."

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. She leaned back in her chair. "I thought I was going crazy."

She sobered and rolled her eyes to the side. When they returned to him, she leaned forward, folded her arms on the table, and rested herself on them.

"Does it what I think it means? That fate wants us to be together?"

He rubbed his tongue along his lower lip. "I don't see any other explanation. I have never heard of anything like this happening to anyone else. Perhaps fate gave us our visions as a way to reassure us that, given our losses and the hardships of our pasts, everything will work out well now."

His heart pounding in his chest, he matched her posture. If there was anything that Abigail, Abe, and Gloria Carlyle had attempted to convey to him, it was to never spend eternity waiting to see if a life's desire was guaranteed. Time didn't make exceptions for his condition, and he should take a risk when the opportunity presented itself to him.

Like right now.

"Jo, may I ask you a question?"

"What?"

 _Here goes_. Henry took a deep breath. "I love you, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you…?"

Just as he was about to ask for her hand in marriage, glass shattered downstairs. Henry peered over his shoulder. Surely, Abe hadn't left his keys and something else behind when he had packed everything that he needed for his day away. If so, he should have remembered that they kept a spare key over the shop's threshold. It wasn't the safest place for it, but it guaranteed the immortal could enter the shop without Abe's assistance whenever his key disappeared following a death.

Jo placed her hands on her seat at the same time he did. Henry pushed himself out and eased around the table.

"I'm going with you."

He looked her in the eye. "It probably was a looter who thought he was robbing the shop next door. I'll check it out." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Tonight, you can be just Jo." _I hope_.

She settled back down in her seat. "If you need me to back you up, yell."

He roamed her eyes. He could do that.

"I will."

He pointed himself toward the door, wove his way through the kitchen, and marched down the stairs. Whoever had violated the sanctity of his home—and, not to mention, murdered the mood—would regret ever stepping foot in the shop. Even if it were Adam….

Henry's eyes darted as he arrived at the landing for the shop's retail area. Adam wouldn't break glass to enter the residence. His two thousand years of life had taught him that stealth was one key to maintaining an element of surprise. Aside from the time in which he had fired a high-powered rifle through the shop's window to frighten Jo from associating with him and from his current work with the NYPD, the psychopathic immortal would never think to announce his location so blatantly.

Henry steeled himself and swung the door open. He pulled his lips together. The shop was as dark as he had left it.

He huffed as he checked the back entrance and walked over to the windows. He inspected each pane and frowned. Perhaps he was imagining things. So far, he couldn't see any broken glass or porcelain on the ground. As far as he knew, the sound could have come from next door.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth. He hadn't checked the basement yet. Perhaps a car or a piece of garbage had struck a rock, which, in turn, had hit a ribbon window behind his desk. He should go downstairs to examine it.

As he wove through the belongings, he sensed a pair of eyes following him. He shivered and rubbed his left arm. He had checked the area, and no one was there. His imagination could be running away with him.

Henry strolled toward the door separating the shop from the living quarters. It would take him only a minute to examine the glass in his lab. After that, he could attempt to ask Jo to marry him again. Perhaps he could get the question out this time.

His leg brushed against something. Startling, he stopped and stared at it. He burst into laughter. How could he miss the table which hosted his picture of Abigail?

He looked up, and his lips rose as he spied a case a few steps behind it. If no one would purchase the Louis Vuitton chest that Abe had brought home from a Brighton Beach estate sale, perhaps he could claim it. He could stow some of his belongings in it to make way for Jo's. If they had enough room, he could store it in the basement until he decided what to do with his possessions.

Remembering the ribbon window, Henry started off toward the door leading to their living quarters.

The next thing he knew, something hard landed on the back of his head, and the world turned black.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This and the next chapter were going to be one chapter, but there's too much story to for it. You'll find out why in the next one.

In case you're wondering, Abe walks Henry through how to order things online. For the story, Abe has a credit card while Henry is still hesitant to request one. (In part, because the guy keeps losing his wallet every time he dies.)


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note** : I'm sorry this is a little late, but it had taken a bit longer than I had expected to finish the chapter. I hope you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

"I love you, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you…?"

Jo's heart pounded in her chest. Was Henry asking her what she thought he was asking her?

As the "yes" on her lips waited for the rest of the question, glass shattered downstairs. She jerked her head around his body. Adrenaline surged through her as she tried to determine where it was coming from. Her gut and her memories of her and her father's break-ins whispered that whoever had broken the window was planning to harm the residents and to take whatever they could get their hands on. Since many of the smaller antiques would fetch thousands of dollars on the market, any one of them could attract a thief.

Jo placed her hands and started to push herself out of her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, Henry was doing the same.

She swallowed. What if the person fatally shot Henry when he confronted them? Would they see his death and tell someone else about it? Or, worse, post it online—without mentioning exactly how they had discovered it—for everybody to read? Neither she nor Henry could guarantee that a government official wouldn't stumble across a mention of it and dig into his past. Nor could they assume that a corrupt business' executives wouldn't use the information to track Henry down and take him away from her, Abe, and their friends and forcing him to live as a human guinea pig for eternity.

"I'm going with you."

She opened her mouth to remind him of her law enforcement experience when his eyes locked onto hers. "It probably was a looter who thought he was robbing the shop next door. I'll take care of it." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Tonight, you can be just Jo."

Although her gut urged her to follow him, she settled back down in her seat. She lowered her eyes for a moment. It was their anniversary, and he clearly wanted to spoil her during it…even if it looked like the night was ruined.

"If you need me to back you up, yell." She hoped that he would take her up on the offer.

"I will."

As Jo watched him leave the apartment, she swallowed. Once he had explained why he always stepped between her and their suspect during a confrontation, she had never liked leaving him without backup. He could naturally return to her within minutes, or after an overnight stay in jail, if someone were to kill him. But having a normal life afterward…. He required the same level of protection, if not maybe slightly more, that she would give one of her fellow mortals.

She pushed herself off her chair and raced for the bedroom. Picking up her phone from the end table, she sighed. She could not relax until she knew Henry would be safe. She sent a quick text to Mike and hoped that it would reach him at a good time. If he was close by, maybe he could act on her message without anyone becoming suspicious for her rationale for sending it.

She studied her phone. Tears formed in her eyes. She still hadn't replaced the picture on her lock screen. In a way, replacing Sean's picture on it would be like erasing him from her memory.

She found the selfie which Henry had accidentally posted on Pinterest. She smiled. It was time, though. If Sean were here, he would tell her that he was happy for her finding another man to share her life with and that he wouldn't mind if she made room for Henry among her personal belongings.

She tapped on the settings until she swapped the photographs. She grinned at the preview of her and Henry smiling back at her. It was now perfect.

Jo set the phone back on the end table and headed back to the dining area. Expecting Henry, she scanned the area for him.

Her heart sank. So far, he hadn't come back upstairs. Something must have….

She closed her eyes. "Martinez, get a grip. He's probably checking every square inch of his lab for damage. He'll be back soon. In the meantime, you're under doctor's orders to relax and enjoy yourself. Follow them."

She took her seat and waited. A couple of minutes passed. She stared at the food and huffed. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten about this part of a married life. Sean had brought his work home with him and had frequently spent his free time in his office on the top floor of the townhouse. Meanwhile, she had lost count of the number of times Mike or her temporary partner would call her to a scene while she and Sean were in the middle of a romantic moment. Sometimes, it had seemed as though creating a life together would have been impossible. Now, with Henry, who knew how many times the OCME would call him out to a natural death as well as a suspicious one?

Several of his stories of him and Abigail being interrupted echoed in her mind. Her eyes darted to the right. Then again, the interruptions were as bad for him when he was married to Abigail. Even after he had quit the medical field, people had interrupted their romantic moments to ask them if they could treat a wound or an illness. With their oaths to do no harm, they had no choice but to stop what they were doing and to treat the patients who had showed up at their door.

Jo finished off the last bite of the chicken tetrazzini. Henry and Abigail couldn't even enjoy their honeymoon as much as they would had liked. Everyone had bugged them from the moment they had arrived in London. And Armen Aronov's father….

The image of holding the prince's grandson in her arms and the look on Henry's face flashed before her, quickly followed by the vision of her future family. Her heart stilled, and her muscles unfolded themselves. She leaned back in her seat. Henry was well-respected within the OCME, and only Dr. Washington would complain about Henry delaying his examination of a body because of a date. In addition, Lieu would try to ensure that they had the time they needed to be with their family, just like she did with Mike. Building a life together with Henry probably won't be as difficult as she thought.

A glint of light beamed in Jo's eye. She followed it back to her ring and tilted her head. She swore that she had left it sitting beside her hairbrush when she was changing. She must have slipped it on while she was brushing her hair.

She twisted her hand around to examine it better. If she was right, it wouldn't be long before an engagement ring from Henry would grace her finger.

"Mrs. Josephine Morgan," she muttered.

Her chest warmed, lifting both her lips and her spirits. Jo Morgan had a nice ring to it. Almost as if the combination of names was especially made for her.

She took another bite of her pasta. She grimaced as the slimy noodle slid in her mouth. How did their plates grow cold so fast?

She glanced over at the oven. She didn't mind reheating their plates in it, but she really needed to talk him into getting a microwave for the days where they didn't have much time together. Hopefully, with his quick adjustment to it, it wouldn't take much to convince him to go ahead and buy one.

Footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Jo straightened her back and shifted her weight. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was done, and they could get back to their night.

"What took you so long?" She plucked his plate off the table and pointed herself toward the oven. "You decided to get a book from your shelves in the basement while you were there?"

A head full of salt-and-pepper hair appeared on the other side. Jo's heart pounded in her chest as she dropped the plate on the island. If he was here and Henry wasn't….

"Detective Martinez." Captain Sheridan rounded the bannister and took another step toward her. "It's nice to see you again."

Jo gulped. This could not end well.

* * *

Faint wails faded in and out in the distance. Henry remained motionless. The dark void overwhelmed him each time he stirred to investigate their origin.

Eventually, a chill permeated his being and guided him out of oblivion's fog. As far as he could tell, one cheek rose into the air while the other joined the rest of him in his place. Engines rumbled behind—or was it above?—him.

His eyes fluttered open. Darkness filled the one on the ground. Over him, a harsh orange-yellowish glow filled the room. He inhaled and sorted through his possible locations. Running his hand along the rough surface where he laid, he bit his lower lip. Without seeing the rest of the building, he could surmise he was in the retail section of the shop.

His head throbbed. He groaned. He needed some aspirin. Or a good night's sleep.

Red and blue lights pursued each other on the wall. A click filled the air, followed by the constant ringing of the bell and heavy steps along the floor. The glow from the streetlights gave way to a blinding yellow light overhead. He closed his eyes, hoping it would fade into something more comforting.

"Devons, take the basement, and don't touch anything weird-looking down there. Butterfield, lead your guys just inside those doors. Wait until I get there."

Henry narrowed his eyes. Why was he hearing Mike's voice?

Grunting, Henry pushed himself into a kneeling position. The room spun around him. He closed his eyes again. He must have tripped and somehow hit his head before rolling over onto his face.

A presence flew to him. An arm reached around his back, and a hand grabbed his shoulder. Feeling himself swimming again, he shut his eyes and focused on the strong grip.

"Easy, Doc."

Henry's eyes slowly open. He twisted his head to face Mike, and the room spun again.

Mike arched his right eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

The throbbing surged through him. Henry reached up and rubbed the back of his head. He must had hit his head harder than he had thought. Could he…?

"I think so. I think I had fallen while walking around the retail space."

He studied the man. "How did you get here? I don't remember calling you."

"Jo texted me. What happened? All she said was 'send backup'."

 _Jo_.

Henry raced through his memories. His heart pounded in time as he pieced together what had occurred.

He scrambled to his feet. He leaned forward and nearly crashed into the Louis Vuitton chest beside him.

He eased himself back onto his knees. There was no doubt about it. He definitely had a concussion.

Mike met Henry's eyes. "Don't start with the 'I'm not an old man' comments. Let me help you up."

Not wanting to argue with his friend, Henry nodded. With Mike's support, Henry swung up onto his feet. Mike escorted him to the table with Abigail's picture on it and guided him onto its surface.

"Doc, what's going on?"

Henry rubbed the tender spot on the back of his head. The constant pulsation drowned out the relief of discovering no laceration.

Mike's stare drew Henry back to the detective's question. "Jo and I were having dinner when we heard glass shattering. I came downstairs to inspect the windows, but I didn't notice any of them broken. I had planned to go to the basement to examine the ribbon windows above my desk when…."

A jabbing pain shot through his head. He squinted and rubbed his head again. When would the pain stop?

"You were attacked from behind."

Henry took a deep breath and nodded. He expected the room to swirl around him again. This time, it remained stationary.

A thud rang through the room. Henry looked up at the apartment. He gulped. _Oh, no. Not Jo. Please, not Jo._

Mike turned back to him. "Let's get you checked out."

He guided Henry off the table. As Mike nudged him toward the front door, Henry planted his feet. "I need to go to Jo."

"Doc, I'll bring her to you. I promise."

Abigail's bones lying on his autopsy table flashed before Henry. Water piled up in his eyes. If Jo joined her there….

"Mike." He hoped that Mike would understand, as one husband to another. "I've already been through this with Abigail. Don't make me go through it again with Jo."

Mike studied him and huffed. "Okay. Stay behind us. Whatever you do, do not confront Captain Sheridan. I'm no doctor, but you're in no shape to take him on."

Another ache pierced Henry's head. He shut his eyes until it passed. Mike was correct. Captain Sheridan would take him out in a heartbeat given the condition he was in. And, even if he was growing more comfortable with others' knowledge of his condition, he wasn't ready to share it with half of the NYPD all at once just yet.

"Okay, I will."

Mike pivoted toward a man near the double doors behind Abe's desk. "Melendez, keep an eye on Doc. If he starts acting odd, escort him to the ambulance." The detective's subsequent glare warned him to not argue with him.

Henry followed Mike as they took their positions with the SWAT team. Mike charged up the stairwell toward the apartment.

Henry strained to hear Jo's movements. Alas, there weren't any.

He swallowed. Too much time had passed since the last sounds. If Mike hadn't spent several moments tending to him, Jo would be safe by his side by now.

As he mounted the steps, it unleashed a torrent.

 _Seeing Jo laying on the ground near Kasper and Rune, finding her phone, and dialing 9-1-1. Worrying about her the entire time he was in jail. Abe encouraging him to find her and his fear of what would happen if they would meet. Blessing Jo and Sean_ _'s relationship._

 _Jo_ _'s "How so?" and her flashing her badge five years later. Her search of the shop and her interrogation the next morning. Their confrontations with Hans Koehler, separated by a round of drinks. Visiting her hospital bedside and wanting to tell her everything. Her coming to the shop to request him as her medical examiner. Her pride in his work. Her worry about him falling off the 59th Street Bridge. Her examination of the cut Paul had given him. Checking out each other's flirting methods. Complementing her appearance for the first time. Chasing Abe through the subway system. Him telling her he worried about her absorption in her work. Her notice of his relationship with Gloria Carlyle. Her calling him partner for the first time. Telling Jo about Abigail and her talking about Sean. Their and Abe's first rooftop dinner. Her interest in his Jack the Ripper notes. Him hoping that she would see him die from the wounds Mark Bentley had given him before Adam killed him. Checking on her after her killing Mark Bentley. Her notice of his preference for Chanel. Her catching him in Molly Dawes' apparatus. Jo seeing his scar for the first time and his desire to tell her about it in McSorley's. Her slight groan at his—admittedly, bad—car pun. His eyes widening at the sight of her in a Tyvek suit. Introducing her to Arturo. Her maternal instinct kicking in while he and Abe were at Lyle Ames' funeral. Discovering her theatrical experience. The charged moment before he caught his ill-fated taxi ride. Her teasing him about his latest awakening. Her worrying over him during the investigation into Raj Patel's murder and when he had killed Clark Walker. Hating his refusal of her calls during his self-imposed three week break from work. Her close watch on him when he had returned to work. Learning where she lived. Comforting her while she dealt with her memories of Sean's death. Ordering her to crash into the Mosholu Parkway exit's emergency barrier. His first visit to her house after a case. Hating to mention his suspicions about Adam's involvement in Julian Glausser's death to her. Talking about their honeymoons with Abigail and Sean. Becoming captivated by her as she held Armen Aronov's grandson in her arms and during their babysitting of the young child. Her encouraging him to date Molly. Detecting a hint of jealousy in Jo's eyes when he mentioned his and Molly's date the next morning. Jo staying with him as he waited for word on Molly's condition. Their conversation on Eric Shaw's bed. Her interest in his past. Finding items from The Empress in Rick Rasmussen's warehouse. Encouraging her to date Isaac. Interrupting her and Isaac's first date to warn her about Margo Healey. Being pleasantly surprised at her pants suit when she had arrived at the morgue from her date. Becoming jealous when she kissed Isaac. "The best thing to do in Paris is to get lost." Jo coming to the shop to tell him she wanted to get lost in Paris with him. Her coming to St. Timothy's in Tarrytown to ask him if her visit had made him uncomfortable. Her joining him as he investigated Abigail's disappearance. His fear of Adam killing her during his search for Adam's pugio. Her calling him out on his lies in the National Museum. Their argument in her car and his admission of his very deep care for her. Admitting to Abe that he had feelings for her. Thinking of her and Abigail while he laid on the Fort Hamilton station's abandoned tunnel and resolving to atone for his transgressions toward her if he survived Adam's experiment._

 _Her showing up at the shop with his watch and the photo of him, Abigail, and Abe in 1945. Telling her about his immortality, only to find that she had deduced a part of the truth already. Her order to get some rest after he poured out his heart to her. Their adjustment to her knowledge of his condition. Her encouragement to start dating again, and his own advice to her a few months later. Telling her of Adam_ _'s escape. Realizing he couldn't devote himself to either of his girlfriends while his mind and heart gravitated toward Jo. Their case in Paris. Reopening Sean's death. Taking turns worrying about each other in the field. Adam threatening her and then firing a high-powered rifle into the shop's window, the bullet meant for her. His flight to Belgium and her following him there. Comforting each other and growing closer emotionally as they endured a rough seven months of investigations. Her reassurances as Lucas, Lt. Reece, and Mike discovered his condition. Losing his memory, falling in love with her all over again, and starting to plan a future with her in it. Her worry as he died with amnesia and her joy when he and, minutes later, his memory returned to her. The ache of the month they had spent apart. The past month filled with remembering their first meeting nine years earlier, dates, days on the sofa with her knitting and him reading, countless rounds of Mad Libs, catching a few old movies and a couple of Yankees games on TV, his massages, and their kisses. Realizing he wanted to make her his wife._

Mike bounced up the last step before the entry into the apartment, drew his gun, faced the men lining the stairs, and counted down with his fingers. As they surged toward the kitchen, Henry's heart raced so hard he thought it would burst. He braced himself for what he would find on the other side of the threshold and silently prayed—maybe for the first time in almost 225 years—that fate, God, or whoever would allow her to remain with him.

And if she survived…

…he would make sure that he would tell her what she meant to him for the rest of her days.

* * *

Jo stared at Captain Sheridan as he approached the island. He was two inches taller than Lucas, which put his face out of her reach. She had left her gun at home in Washington Heights. Even if she had remembered it, she couldn't have fit it under her denim jacket.

The hemline of her dress and the tops of her boots tightened around her legs. She mentally let loose an expletive. She should have worn the black suit which she had on when she had discovered Lucy Templeton's body in The Trash Bar's walls. It was comfortable, and Henry had loved seeing her in it.

Captain Sheridan inched toward her. She threw her hands up.

"I'm not sure what you're doing here." She did, but she didn't want to let him on. She pointed behind her at the table. "If you want to sit down and talk…."

He pulled out a knife. Jo gulped as her life flashed before her eyes.

 _Welcoming her siblings into the world. Joining her father during their break-ins and him teaching her everything he knew. Going up among 116th Street_ _'s drugs, gangs, and the Italian mafia. Learning how to cook from her mother. Spending days with both sets of grandparents when her parents weren't home after school. Winning the scholarship to the private school in Lower Manhattan and being bullied by the blond who was jealous of her academic prowess. Many nights playing Mad Libs with Sara. Joining her brother in countless games of street ball. Realizing exactly what her father was doing to her and to the families of the homes they had broken into during her last B and E. Watching her father kill the townhouse's occupant when the man had returned home. Her father's arrest and her difficult decision to testify against him at trial. Deciding to join the NYPD. Graduating from high school and watching her siblings follow her footsteps. Earning her bachelor's degree in criminal justice. Attending and graduating from the academy. Finding her apartment in Alphabet City and discovering the shop. Rising through the ranks until she became a detective with the NYPD's illustrious homicide squad._

 _Investigating Dexter_ _'s death. Going to Kasper and Rune, only to be attacked by Captain Sheridan. Waking up to Henry by her side and watching his death. Learning from the paramedics that they had expected to find her dead when they had arrived at the scene. Vowing to do things differently when she was released from the hospital. Meeting Sean, falling in love with him, and marrying him. Their honeymoon in Atlantic City. Building a life with him as much as they could give their jobs. Their argument and his fatal heart attack. Mourning him for almost a year._

 _Finding Henry_ _'s watch and feeling it was familiar. Seeing Henry in the morgue and locking eyes with him for the first time. Discovering him on the surveillance footage and searching the shop for evidence which tied him to the crash. Realizing, over drinks, he shared her pain of losing a spouse. Their two confrontations with Hans Koehler. Waking up to him by her bedside and knowing there was something different about him. Returning his watch to him and requesting him as her ME. Enjoying seeing him work on cases. Worrying about him climbing down the 59th Street Bridge. His familiarity with Victoria Browning's family piquing her interest in him. Watching him flirt…"for scientific purposes". "You're quite hot." Chasing Abe through the subway system. "There's someone for all those breakfasts and dinners." Getting Abigail's name out of him. Learning more about Gloria Carlyle's early life as they investigated her death. Their first argument about her gyros. Their first rooftop dinner. Finding his Jack the Ripper notes. Him comforting her after she shot Mark Bentley. Worrying about him when Tyler Forrester's killer shot him in the arm. Feeling a little jealous as they investigated Molly Dawes and her work as Iona Payne. Seeing Henry's scar for the first time and feeling its location on her chest after she took him home from McSorley's. Groaning at his bad car pun. Watching his jaw slightly drop when she donned a Tyvek suit for the first time. Meeting Arturo. Wondering who was the worse influence on whom when Henry and Abe decided to pursue a suspect. Their charged moment before he caught the taxi Adam was driving. Teasing him about his latest arrest. Worrying about him throughout their investigation into Raj Patel's murder. Her heart breaking at his revelation of having a stalker and the thought of him handling it alone for four months. Comforting him as he dealt with killing Clark Walker. The sting of him refusing to answer her calls for three weeks. Her joy when he returned to work and worrying about him throughout the Jason Fox case. Him distracting her from the memories of losing Sean. Him reminding her that victims are people too, that people can change, and that not every suspect was motivated by money or power. Her crash and her relief when Henry arrived at the scene. His first visit to her house. Talking about their honeymoons. Babysitting Armen Aronov's grandson. Feeling a little jealous when he had dated Molly in spite of her encouragement to do so. Hating to leave his side while he worried about the dominatrix. Their conversation on Eric Shaw's bed. Suspecting something was off when Liz Chamberlin emailed them to her and then when he recognized The Empress' steering wheel a couple of weeks later. Him encouraging her to date Isaac. "You brought a gun on a date?" Noticing his disappointment when they had left the karaoke bar and not seeing it was because she had kissed Isaac. "The best thing to do in Paris…." Realizing she had feelings for Henry, dumping Isaac, and going to the shop to tell Henry. Abe's confounding interruption. Henry telling her that her visit didn't make him uncomfortable. Investigating Abigail's disappearance and noticing Henry had a very personal connection to it. Confronting him on his lies when he had tried to direct the investigation away from finding Adam's pugio. HIs confession of his feelings for her driving a knife through her heart after she had confronted him in Audrey Griffin's residence._

 _Following Henry to the Fort Hamilton station_ _'s abandoned tunnel, hearing the first gunshot, realizing he was facing his problems alone again, hearing the second, and kicking herself for their confrontation in her car. Discovering Henry's watch and the photo where his body should have been. Reviewing all of his dropped hints, unusual pieces of knowledge, and moments of abandoned self-preservation and arriving at the truth. Going to the shop for more answers._

 _Him telling her that he_ _'s immortal and seeing how much courage and physical energy it took for him to tell her the truth. Adjusting to her knowing about his condition. Their encouragement to start dating again and the realization that she was more interested in Henry than anyone else. Their case in Paris. Worrying about each other in the field. Being there for him when the rest of the team learned the truth about him. Reopening Sean's death. Adam's threats toward her, which sent Henry to Belgium. Talking him into coming home to New York. Comforting each other and becoming closer during their cases over the next seven months. The pain of him losing his memory and her joy when it returned. Realizing she had fallen in love with him and declaring her feelings for him. Hating the month that they had spent apart and enjoying their reunion. Moving into The Viele and settling into a comfortable routine with him. Their first date and first kiss. Every romantic moment they shared. Realizing that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life as his wife._

The gleam from Captain Sheridan's knife sliced through Jo's memories. She swallowed. Was this what it felt like every time Henry died?

Captain Sheridan lunged toward her. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She didn't want to find out.

She grabbed the knife and stomped his foot. Captain Sheridan dropped the blade, and it landed beside him. She kicked it as far as it could go.

She slid her hand behind her boot, secured it, and jerked it off. He bent down to grab her. She elbowed him in the abdomen. He gripped his stomach and doubled over.

Jo yanked the other boot off as fast as she could. She glanced at the door leading downstairs and swallowed again. She had no idea how many of her colleagues were waiting to arrest her if she came their way.

Deciding on a course, she bolted for the stairs leading to the roof. Behind her, Captain Sheridan's footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor.

She dashed up the stairs. When she reached the attic's door, she swallowed. _Please don_ _'t let him find it._

She squared her shoulders and raced ahead. She would find out soon enough.

Jo reached the door leading up to the rooftop. She shoved it open and dashed through it. The cold air rushed past her as her bare feet expertly took her around the small garden-like oasis within the city.

Red and blue lights flashed in the corner of her eye. A siren wailed to a stop. Her heart sank. How could her colleagues believe him over her?

The aromas of the red sauce, matzo balls, and jerk chicken tempted her to come to the ledge and take in the delight. Jo huffed. If she wanted to enjoy it in the future, she couldn't stop now.

Out of the corner of her eye, the tall man lumbered around, bashing his shins on the table and on the raised garden beds Henry and Abe had constructed in the 1990s. She smiled. No one else knew her home like she, her family, and her friends did.

She sped back toward the kitchen. Her cold feet hit the wooden steps without feeling them. She huffed. What had happened to them?

The door to the attic loomed into view. Her heart slammed itself against her chest. If he went in there….

Brass glinted below her. She bit her lower lip. _Perfect_.

She ran to the oven, reached up, and grabbed Abe's large frying pan off its hook. The pots and pans beside it clanged, ringing through the apartment. She sucked in her breath. Hopefully, he didn't hear it.

The door's bell below rang…and rang…and rang. Steps echoed through the shop.

She gulped. How many of them were there?

Reminding herself of her first threat, she tucked herself between the cabinet and the dining table. She whipped the pan in front of her and moved her hands up the handle like she used to when playing street ball with her brother and his friends.

Captain Sheridan limped down the stairs, keeping his eyes on the kitchen. Jo bit back her laugh. He must have hit his leg on the pergola or on the table on his way back down.

The bell's rings stopped, but the steps didn't. If she had to fight them all off, she would.

Captain Sheridan cleared the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Once he turned around, he would see her.

She squared her shoulders again and rolled them. It was now or never.

Jo lunged for the captain and swung the frying pan at his head.

It made contact with him. She expected him to spin around and notice her….

…Instead, he crumpled to his knees and dropped to the ground. A second later, his face slammed against the hardwood floor.

Her mouth fell open. She thought that only worked in the movies.

Her eyes fell to the knife. She raised her hand to her head and loosened her grip on the pan. She didn't notice it tumbling to the floor.

She panted. _That was close_.

Her knees started to give way on her. She staggered toward the island and grasped its edge. She leaned over it and closed her eyes. How was it possible for her to still be alive?

Cold moisture soaked her hand. She lifted it up, and her palm stung.

She studied her hand and spotted the blood oozing out of it. She blinked rapidly. She must have pressed down too hard on the blade when she had grabbed it.

Footsteps raced toward her. She peered over her shoulder. To her surprise, Captain Sheridan didn't move.

She gulped. She might as well surrender herself now. If IA questioned her about his death, she would claim self-defense. And Henry would be there to comfort her as she dealt with the emotional consequences of taking another life.

Her eyes widened as Mike appeared through the door. How did he get here so fast?

He locked eyes with her and sheaved his gun in his holster. He took one look on the ground and back at her.

"Next time, don't leave me a cryptic message. You're getting to be as bad as Doc when he first started working with us."

"I didn't have enough time. I—."

She peered around him, but all she could see were her fellow colleagues lowering their guns as they filed into the apartment behind Mike. A pair of men moved toward the still unconscious captain. Where was Henry?

The air left the room. She gulped in as much air as she could. How many people had watched him die this time?

Jo peered between the SWAT team members who mostly blocked her view of their bedrooms. If Henry was leaving tomorrow night, she was going with him and Abe. She could always start over with another job. She, however, wasn't guaranteed a second chance of reuniting with him.

A familiar dark brown shock of curly hair appeared behind the last SWAT member coming up the stairs. Her heart raced. Could it be…?

Henry finished his climb. She hobbled to him as he rounded the banister.

His eyes found her and widened with relief. "Jo?"

She gingerly stepped up to him and cupped his cheek with her still bleeding hand. He took her waist and pulled her close to him.

She gazed into his eyes as she stroked the Longsworth cheekbones that he inherited from his mother. How was it possible for him to be standing here in front of her—and still clothed in the same dress shirt and pants he had worn before he left her?

Her eyes roamed his glazed ones. Her heart jumped into her throat. How long had he been lying unconscious downstairs? He looked like he was still waking up.

She gave him a small smile to keep him from worrying about her emotional state. "Let's get you checked out."

He bowed his head and pressed it against her forehead. "Whatever you say, _cariña_."

She looked over her shoulder. "Mike?"

Mike spun around, rested his cell phone against his leg, and looked at her. "What?"

"You brought an ambulance?"

"Yeah. I was calling in another for Captain Sheridan. Why?"

"I'm taking Henry down to it. I think he needs to go to the emergency department."

As if he had heard his name earlier, Captain Sheridan groaned.

Henry peered over her shoulder. He gazed into her eyes, narrowed his, and grinned. "You knocked him out with one of Abe's frying pans?"

"Serves him right after what he had put us through." Her lips quirked up at him. "Besides, I didn't have a lot of options while dressed like this."

Henry chuckled as she nudged him toward the stairs. "I'm sure Abe wouldn't mind the mess after we tell him what had happened tomorrow morning."

The man whom he had come up with—Melendez, she thought—wove his way through the crowd and caught Henry. She stepped aside to let her colleague lead Henry out.

She clutched onto the banister and twisted herself toward the scene. Two SWAT members hoisted Captain Sheridan from the ground while Mike cuffed him. Others milled around the kitchen, marking where everything laid so CSU could process the scene later.

She took a deep breath before joining Henry downstairs. It was over. Their nightmare was finally over.

..And, yet…

..And, yet, their life would never be the same.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** The Louis Vuitton Steamer chest where Henry falls is modeled on the "A.P.C." Steamer on LV Trunks' web site. For the flashbacks, I'm taking a little liberty with both Henry and Jo's stories, and I'm using a bit of my head canon for the background of this story and "Remember You Must Die and Live."


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry I haven't posted before now. Between one very frustrating hurricane, unexpected livestock visitors, and a muscle strain which made sitting uncomfortable, I hadn't been able to concentrate. Fortunately, everything turned out okay, and I was able to get back to the chapter. I hope you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 25**

"That…was close."

Henry's dulcet voice wrapped around Jo like a warm blanket as she peered through the two-way mirror at their assailant and his representative from the Captains' Endowment Association. The two men were deep in conversation, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. As far as she knew, they had spotted the couple in the observation room, and they were plotting how to prevent the investigators from watching the interview.

The memories of their attacks flowed past her. She drew in a deep breath. No other suspect had frightened her like Captain Sheridan did. No one had the power to betray her and worse, cover up the evidence, and persuade others to drop the matter. Not her father. Not several of the more devious criminals she had encountered. Not even Adam himself.

Captain Sheridan raised his head and stared at the two-way mirror, almost as if he could see through it. Jo squared her shoulders and glared back. If he believed that he was going to get away with it this time, he had better think again.

Feeling Henry's eyes on her, she twisted around to face him. His eyes glistened with tears. She swallowed a lump in her throat. She hated seeing him blame himself for not defending her, just as he had when they had learned Abigail's fate.

"If—" he croaked. "If something were to have happened to you, I…." His lips quivered.

"I know."

Her eyes roamed his brown ones. She knew all too well. Seeing her body enter his morgue would have sent him into a spiral of depression. He would have resumed his experiments and poured himself into them. This time, though, he would have pushed everyone else away to stop the good memories from hurting him. Adam would have eventually found him, taken the younger, grief-stricken immortal under his wing, and used her death and his desire to join her in the afterlife to turn him to the dark side of immortality.

That is, if Henry didn't let his desire for vengeance overpower him and prompt him to track down and kill Captain Sheridan. A jail cell would have confined him for only so long. Adam would have found out….

The golden specks in Henry's eyes danced in hers. Her chest warmed, erasing her worries. If she had to do it all over again, though, she wouldn't change a thing. A full day in the emergency department was better than the alternatives.

Her gaze wandered to his cheek. She tilted her head. His concussion must have thrown off his powers of observation.

Jo licked her finger and wiped the short streak of blood she had unwittingly deposited on his left cheek when she had cupped it. "You missed a spot."

"I was attempting to keep the needle in my hand dry while I washed my face yesterday afternoon." Henry scoffed and bowed his head. "At least it wasn't an IV. Given the length of my unconsciousness, I'm surprised the emergency department physician had deemed me healthy enough to go without one this time."

"You felt free, though, huh?" She had enjoyed that same freedom last night while she had waited for the emergency department physician to check out her hand.

She flipped her hand over and started to stroke the back of his with her thumb. The crease of her palm stung. She winced. The ibuprofen which the doctor had suggested for her to take must have worn off.

He studied her dressing. "How's your hand this morning?"

"It could be worse." Like being splashed with aconite. Or doused in alcohol, set on fire, and drowned in water seconds later. "I'll survive."

"You know…." He tilted his head and gave her a puppy-dog look. "You have a personal physician who can remove your stitches when your hand heals." He offered her a huge lopsided grin. "I have all of the necessary equipment to…."

His lips tempted her to kiss him to shut him up. Before she could, the door leading into the observation room creaked open. Henry snapped his head up and peered over Jo's. She spun around to see who had followed them in.

Lieu strolled through the threshold first, followed by a well-dressed woman. Jo's heart sank. She hated lying to the woman about her and Henry's true relationship when they had met. Although she trusted the woman, she had no idea if their lies would come back to haunt her if the case went to trial.

She swallowed as the other woman's eyes darted from Jo to Henry and back again. "Lisa."

Lisa Lane smiled warmly at the detective. "I didn't expect him—." She nodded toward the other room. "—to take the bait so quickly."

"I don't think any of us had." Lieu stared at her superior. "I expected him to wait several days to establish his alibi and to plan his attack."

Jo slightly bobbed her head. She had figured they didn't have much time to prepare for Captain Sheridan's "visit" when she and Henry had encountered Emma near the DA's office over the weekend. Even they were surprised how quickly Captain Sheridan had walked into their trap.

Jo studied Lisa. Her stomach wrenched inside her. If she didn't apologize soon, she would never forgive herself.

"Henry and I didn't mean to lie to you. We were…."

Lisa threw her hand up. "Call us even." She dropped her hand, sighed, and glanced into the next room. She dropped her voice. "My work as an investment banker at New Horizons Bank is a cover that Nick and I had created to protect us from the families of those I prosecute. When we got married, we agreed that maintaining an active social life wasn't worth losing either of ours. I hated the idea at first, but it became second nature to me. Can't say that I missed having a more normal life, though. I've had my moments, but I would do anything to keep us safe."

Jo nodded. It had been almost the same with her and Sean. Except for she had hated every minute that she had to hide their life together from even their families and closest friends.

She peeked at Henry. Maybe she was getting a second chance at a more normal life now. Sure, she would have to hide his immortality from others for now. Yet, their social circle was expanding by the day, and he had even mentioned his plans to tell her mother about his condition as soon as he was released from the hospital. Who knew? Maybe, one day, the entire world would be in on his secret, and they could live their life together as normally as any other couple.

Henry rested a hand on her shoulder, his eyes on the other woman. "Your cover was quite convincing. We had assumed your clients' complaints about their financial situations had kept you away from your residence."

Jo's lips parted. They hadn't seen Lisa after their first day at The Viele. Since they were floor-mates, the couple had kept an eye out for her so they could befriend her, to no avail.

Lisa giggled. "I knew our cover worked, but I didn't know it worked that well."

Mike emerged through the other room's door. Captain Sheridan and his representative turned toward him. Mike stepped over to the side and leaned against the wall near the door.

Lisa smoothed her coat and glanced at Lieu. "Are you ready for this?"

Lieu squared her shoulders and rolled them. "Let's nail this jerk."

As the two women left the room, Lucas eased by them. Jo's jaw fell. He wasn't supposed to be here.

"Lucas, what are you doing here?"

He met her eyes. "Lt. Reece asked me to come. She thought I would be interested in what Captain Sheridan had to say. I would give you a 'Welcome Back' hug, but I don't think I'll have time." He turned to the window. "I should have brought popcorn."

Henry dropped his head onto Jo's shoulder and groaned. His hair and his breath tickled her skin.

Her eyes widened as a pair of curls caressed the recess between her ear and her neck. She reached into her pocket, gripped the lining, and then dug her fingers into her leg. It was taking everything within her to remain standing.

Henry removed his head from her shoulder. Her heart sank, and the room grew colder. She wrapped her arms around her. Why did he had to do that? It had been a very long while since a man had made her feel that way.

She felt Lucas' eyes on her. Her cheeks warmed, and she shot him a glare. If he said one word…..

"Lisa?" Captain Sheridan's voice snapped Jo's attention back to the other room. "What are you doing here? I thought you worked at New Horizons Bank."

"It's Mrs. Lane to you." Lisa moved into a chair across from Captain Sheridan's representative while Mike and Lieu took seats flanking her. "I am well within my authority to be here. I had notified my supervisors at the DA's office about the potential conflict of interest, and they had informed me that my participation was well within ethical guidelines."

Captain Sheridan turned to Lieu and gave her a menacing grin. "Lt. Reece, I thought you would have called off your detective here—." He nodded toward Mike. "—and reassigned him to his desk after hearing what he did to me."

Lieu leaned forward. "He's done nothing wrong. He was acting under my orders."

Mike squirmed in his seat. Jo tilted her head. He must have called the SWAT team himself after receiving her message, and Lieu was covering for him.

Captain Sheridan met Lieu's eyes. "This is a violation of departmental policy. When I leave this room, I want you and him to clean out your desks and leave the premises. If you don't, I will have you arrested for trespassing." He looked over Lieu's head. "If Detective Martinez is listening, she will be arrested and charged with assault and battery on a law enforcement officer as well as obstruction of justice and interference in a police investigation. As for Dr. Morgan, I will make sure his indecent exposure charges will stick, and I will have him charged with obstruction of justice and interference in a police investigation as well. In addition, IA will investigate every case the two of you and Detective Martinez has ever worked."

Adrenaline surged through Jo. Maybe they should leave New York right now. Once he saw Henry's arrests date back to long before his supposed birth date, Captain Sheridan could call anyone he knew who might be interested in his findings.

Mike then reclined back in his chair. "Care to tell us how your wife Emma knew Trevor Allen?"

Captain Sheridan looked at him. "Who?"

"Trevor Allen. Emma's former boss told us that they were rivals for the position of senior partner at Kasper and Rune. He had beaten her out of it a month before your wedding."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

The overhead lights caught in the beads of sweat lining Captain Sheridan's head. Jo bit her lower lip and nodded. She thought so.

"Emma told him about her and Trevor's rivalry and about their argument after his promotion." Henry's voice rose over her heartbeat.

Mike shifted and leaned forward. "She told you about it, admitted to slipping something in his drink and seeing him drop dead while at work, and about the OCME coming for his body."

Captain Sheridan stiffened his back. "That's not true."

"Captain…." The representative raised his hand into the air.

Mike tilted his head. "When Detective Dexter Chapman came by your apartment to question her a couple of days later, she was afraid he would find out about her involvement in Trevor's death. She took a knitting needle and stabbed him…."

"Detective…." The captain growled.

"Captain." The representative chirped.

Mike gestured toward the captain. "She killed him, and you covered it up." He leaned back in his chair. "We have all the evidence we need to charge her with first-degree murder." He glanced over at Lisa. "Knowing the DA's office, they'll make sure she receives the maximum penalty possible."

Captain Sheridan's face turned white, and he slumped in his chair. "I…."

His representative leaned over. "Don't answer any questions."

Captain Sheridan turned to the other man. "I want to tell them."

The other man returned to his original position. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Lieu and Lisa folded their hands almost in sync. Lisa leaned forward. "What exactly happened?"

Captain Sheridan huffed. "She and Trevor did have a rivalry. She wanted the senior partnership, but the firm selected him instead. She was upset about it." He met their eyes. "But she didn't kill him."

"He died by aortic dissection." Lieu's voice cut through Jo's thoughts.

Out of the corner of Jo's eyes, Lucas beamed with pride while Henry lowered his head. Jo bit back her laugh. Neither man had to tell her, but Dr. Washington must have been behind the original theory of murder.

"What about Dexter?"

"He, um…." Captain Sheridan huffed. "He made two visits to the firm, one the day after Trevor's death and the day after that. Emma had told him that she didn't see anything."

Lisa leaned back in her seat. "You knew Detective Chapman was involved in the investigation off the record under Lt. Roarke's orders. Did you call him into your office to inform you of his progress?"

Captain Sheridan nodded. "He had no evidence of a murder. I didn't see the point of him conducting an investigation. He, however, was certain Emma was involved, and he proceeded to threaten to tell IA, the DA's office, and the FBI about my conflict of interest."

Jo crossed her arms and scoffed. "You tried to threaten him to drop the case before he threatened you."

Her eyes widened and darted along the bottom edge of the window. That would explain….

"He called Lt. Roarke into his office and threatened to fire both Dexter and me if we didn't drop our cases. No wonder why Lt. Roarke wouldn't let me run with my gut."

She looked at Lt. Reece. How was it possible for her to be assigned to the one superior who wouldn't think twice about standing up to her own boss? Or for Lieu to let her follow her gut wherever it would take her?

Lieu readjusted her hands. "Tell us about the morning of June 22, 2009."

Cody squirmed in his seat and studied the table. After what had felt like an eternity, he turned back to the trio.

"Detective Chapman had come by the apartment looking for Emma. I attempted to stop him from entering, but he charged in, accusing us of hiding something. I, um…. I headed over to the end table on Emma's side of the bed, took the knitting needle out of her ball of yarn, and stabbed him in the chest with it. He died minutes later."

Jo peeked over at Henry. Behind his eyes, she could see the gears in his head turning.

Henry kept his gaze trained on the people in the other room. "Emma walked in at that moment and demanded to know what was going on. He enlisted her assistance in cleaning the wound and changing his clothes to conceal the murder. To depose of Dexter's body, he half-walked, half-dragged Dexter's body to Summit Rock."

Jo met the reflection of Henry's eyes. "On the way out, Ryan caught him and became suspicious. Later that evening, Ryan confronted Captain Sheridan, and Nick overheard their argument."

Lucas wrinkled his eyebrows. "Who are Ryan and Nick?"

Jo turned to him. "Two of our neighbors."

Captain Sheridan's voice caught Jo's attention. When she turned back to the window, her jaw dropped at the confirmation of their suspicions.

Lieu, Mike, and Lisa leaned around each other. Jo's breath caught in her throat. She wished she knew what they were discussing.

Lisa twisted back to Captain Sheridan. "Lt. Reece informed me that someone had left her a threatening letter. The surveillance footage from the bullpen shows someone entering her office, but, as far as we're able to determine, it wasn't a janitor. Would you know anything about that?"

"I caught him—" he nodded to Mike. "—and Detective Martinez in the hallway downstairs and overheard them talking about Emma's line of questioning during a trial. I thought that Detective Martinez would remember the case and discuss it with Dr. Ross, the ME assigned to it at the time. I headed to the records department and requested the box pertaining to Detective Chapman's death. I waited until the officers headed to the back room before I removed one photo showing Detective Martinez fully, closed the box, and left the room."

"He was the one who addressed the manila envelope and typed the distressing message that started this mess." Henry turned to Jo and offered her a small smile. "That's not to say I wouldn't change what happened afterward…."

"Who was the officer who handled your request?"

Captain Sheridan looked to the left. "An Officer de los Rios, I think. At least that's what his name tag read."

Jo's blood boiled within her. How could Adam fail to notice Captain Sheridan's body language? Unless….

"Dr. Morgan didn't look familiar?" Mike's question stopped Jo's thoughts.

Captain Sheridan opened his mouth and then shook his head. "Actually, he did. I, um…." He scoffed. "I didn't realize I pushed my image of him out of my mind until I saw him and Detective Martinez unpack their car their first day at The Viele."

Jo's heart pounded in her chest. Captain Sheridan knew exactly who Henry was that day.

Lt. Reece leaned forward. At the same moment, Lucas bolted toward the window. Jo held her arm out, hoping Lucas would get the message.

"Oops, sorry." Lucas backed up almost immediately.

"How did you know they were at The Viele?" Lieu's voice rang out.

Captain Sheridan met her eyes and turned his gaze back to his representative.

Adrenaline surged through Jo. Why didn't she and Henry consider that possibility?

"He asked the front desk to see our paperwork shortly after we arrived at The Viele. To confirm my identity, he increased patrol around my house in Washington Heights and asked the unis to report what they saw. Afterward, he ordered cybercrimes to report our calls to Lt. Reece as soon as we made them."

Henry met her gaze. "He broke into our apartment during our first date night and searched our belongings for any clues we had picked up. On his way out, he examined our pictures. When he saw the one with the two of us in Paris, someone came near our door. He dropped the photo and, once they passed, exited our apartment as discretely as he could."

"Wow!"

Henry and Jo turned to Lucas. "What?"

"I'm not sure to be angry about this jerk manhandling my handiwork or to be thrilled you finally went on your first date. I'm leaning more toward…."

"Were you at Kasper and Rune on June 24, 2009?" Lisa's voice beckoned the trio back to the ones in the interrogation room.

Captain Sheridan trained his eyes onto her. "Emma left for work early. I dropped by later that morning to see her. I don't see how this is relevant."

Henry and Jo locked eyes with each other. Jo gulped. She didn't remember seeing anyone else in the area when they were attacked. Did Captain Sheridan…?

Lisa crossed her hands in front of her. "You didn't noticed any injured people, had you?"

Captain Sheridan shook his head and pushed himself back in his chair. "No, I didn't see anyone there. I had to dodge around a construction site en route to her office. I almost tripped over a metal pipe and an antique pocket watch which were laying in the middle of the sidewalk."

"Antique pocket watch?" Even with his back turned to her, Jo could see Mike's right eyebrow shooting up. "We said nothing about an antique pocket watch. What do you know about it?"

Captain Sheridan remained silent.

The two investigators and the DA huddled together. Henry and Jo looked at each other. Whether Captain Sheridan realized it or not, he had practically confessed to his attack on them.

"Is it me?" Lucas stared at the detectives' boss. "Or does he seem creepier than the ancient bag of bones in the records room?"

Henry started to lose it first. He bowed his head as he tried to hold in his laughter. Jo quickly covered her mouth and joined him.

Lieu, Mike, and Lisa pushed themselves out of their seats. Henry rested his hand on the back of Jo's back and guided her to the door.

As they reached the threshold, Jo glanced over her shoulder at Captain Sheridan. She took a deep breath. Surprisingly, the air smelled fresher than it ever had.

She smiled. Once she had started remembering the case in full, she had blamed herself for her failure to see it through. Now, though, she finally had brought Captain Sheridan to justice. Now, she, Henry, Abe, Megan, and Talbert finally had answers.

And, now, it looked as though her and Henry's lives could return to normal.

* * *

The interview with Captain Sheridan and Lisa's conversations with him and Jo rolled around in Henry's head. He still could not believe his ears. Following every death at the hands of a murderer, he had resigned himself to the idea of fate eventually giving his killer what they had deserved. This time, though, he had gathered his courage and related his story to the DAs to give Jo's story additional credibility. Lisa had believed his excuse of coming to and fleeing the scene for fear of Captain Sheridan's return. And Captain Sheridan would be charged with battery and attempted murder on him..twice.

Jo snuggled closer to him as they crossed the bullpen. He drew her closer to him. More importantly, though, he still couldn't believe that fate—or God or whoever had granted him his immortality—had allowed Jo to remain with him. As he had approached the top steps, he had braced himself for the sight of her corpse on his kitchen floor. The moment he saw her hobbling toward him, his heart leapt in his chest. The only thing that he could do had been to head to her as quickly as his concussion would allow him.

A dull ache throbbed across his forehead. He should cut his day short. He was under doctor's orders to take it easy for two more days.

"Do you think that Emma knew about our attack or Captain Sheridan stalking us?"

Henry turned to Jo. He offered her a small smile. "I doubt she did. Captain Sheridan likely hid it from her to protect her from additional worries and the consequences of his actions. Somehow, I think his actions had haunted him since he and Emma had joined together in matrimony. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone to the lengths which he had."

"The things we do for love, huh?"

Henry guided Jo to her seat. Spying another chair, he pulled it over next to her.

"The things we do for love…."

He chuckled. It was for love that he had planned to begin a life with Elizabeth Norton when they were teenagers. That he had finally broken down and told Nora he was immortal. That he had failed to conceal his grief over losing Ann. That he had decided to give love and a family another chance when he had met Abigail and Abe. That he had decided to work with Jo even after she had obtained several clues about his condition. That he was ready to take the plunge with her now.

Jo took his hand and squeezed it. "How are you doing?"

He scoffed. "Things haven't sunken in yet. I've never…."

A pair of detectives passed by her desk. He looked at her and tilted his head. She threw her head back.

She leaned over and pressed her forehead against his. "You're human." Her soft voice washed over him. "You deserve it."

"Thanks for the reminder."

He peeked around her. No one was paying attention. Perhaps….

He pressed his lips against hers. Before he could caress them, footsteps headed toward them. He reluctantly pulled away from her. Perhaps he could indulge in another kiss when they returned home.

"You're kidding! You kissed for the first time while you were away?!"

Henry bit back his groan. How could Lucas be as annoying as Abe?

He met his assistant's ecstatic gaze. "Yes, we had. We…."

"Haven't you made a bet before?"

Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. There was a more discrete way to answer Lucas' questions without alerting the entire bullpen to what had happened.

He fished his wallet out of his pocket. "Lucas, how many bets on Jo's and my relationship have been made?"

Lucas rested his hands on Jo's desk. "Quite a few." He held his hand up and pointed to his finger. "There's whether you were even interested in a relationship, which was promptly addressed when that redhead dropped you off at work six years ago. Which way you swing. How you two would meet. Who would touch the other first…."

As Lucas continued, Henry's jaw dropped. He never realized how much interest his personal life had generated among his colleagues at the OCME.

"Each bet averages about $20. Am I right?" It appeared to be the going rate for them nowadays.

Lucas opened and closed his mouth several times. "Yeah."

He quickly counted out the cash which would approximate the number of milestones in his and Jo's relationship. He then glanced down at Jo's ring. His breath caught in his throat. He should make a more formal attempt at a proposal as soon as possible. If nothing else, their latest attack and Jo being by his bedside while he was in the emergency department yesterday had shown him that he didn't want to spend another day without her by his side.

He added an extra $20 bill, slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and handed the money to Lucas. "Here. Treat Tori and yourself to something nice."

"I can't take your cash."

Henry waved it at Lucas. "If I had known about the bets before now, I would have betted against myself. Besides, Jo and I would prefer to keep our time together to ourselves. Think of this as our way of telling you what occurred without announcing it to the entire building."

"In that case…." Lucas took the money out of his hands. He narrowed his eyes. "It seems to be a little thicker than it should be."

Henry glanced at Jo. He would like to finish the milestone the extra $20 represented first.

He turned back to Lucas. "Just go."

Lucas pivoted and strolled toward the hallway. Henry let loose a chuckle. How was it possible for him to be friends with a young man such as Lucas?

Jo's gaze drew Henry back to her. "What?"

"What did he mean about the stack being a little thicker than it should be?"

He leaned against Jo's forehead again. "Let's just say I hedged my bets in case I missed one."

"You don't want to tell me, huh?"

"Let an old man keep at least one secret." He gave her a lopsided grin.

Jo's ring entered his thoughts again. He pulled away. "May I see your ring?"

"Sure." She slipped it off her finger and handed it to him. "Why do you want it?"

"I haven't seen it up close before." His heart sank a little. He hated lying to her, but, this time, it was necessary.

He tilted it up to the light and twisted it around. Once he spotted her size, he rolled his tongue in his mouth and noted it. He should readily find an engagement ring in Jo's size in any jewelry shop.

He gave it back to her.

"Satisfied?" She slipped it back on her finger.

"Quite."

Jo leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and groaned.

"What is it, cariña?"

She glared at him.. "Adam." She shifted herself into an upright position. "He hadn't done anything to us recently, per se. But he still had the nerve to give that picture of us to Captain Sheridan. What could he possibly want with it?"

Henry stared at the hallway, hoping the answer would come to him. "He had hinted at Captain Sheridan's presence in the records room in his note to us. Perhaps I should…."

Jo trained her gaze onto him. "Don't. We can't…."

Henry met Jo's eyes. "And when he finally picks up on our deception? What would we do if he comes after you to get to me?" He nodded back to the interrogation room. "Unlike Captain Sheridan, we have no other recourse with Adam. The legal system isn't equipped to handle people with our condition."

Jo sank against the back of the chair. "It's not like we could tell him to leave us alone. He would never listen."

His mind turned her words over. He bit his lower lip. His eyes darted around the bullpen as his memory of their confrontation four years ago flashed before him. Perhaps….

He grinned. It could work….

"What?"

Henry turned back to Jo and grinned. "We know his greatest fear."

She tilted her head. "And?"

"It's not vengeance, but what if we use his fear against him? He had attempted to use mine against me, and you know how that turned out."

She considered his proposition for a moment. She then giggled. "You know. That could work. You know what they say about projection and bullies."

She met his gaze. "What do you need?"

He glanced at her disorganized desk. "Just a sheet of paper. Preferably white to match his notes to me."

She eased out of her chair, placed a hand on his shoulder, and kissed him on the cheek. "Be right back."

As she left, he followed her with his eyes. His lips parted. If he was right, he and Jo would never have to worry about Adam bothering them ever again.

And, for the first time since the psychopathic immortal had appeared in their lives, perhaps he and Jo could finally enjoy a sense of normalcy.

* * *

Adam whistled as he strolled toward the records room. His weekend had gone much better than he had expected. He had initially planned to partake of several fine dishes, view Othello at the Delacorte Theatre, and, for once in about a century, enjoy the company of a feminine companion. Yet, a spontaneous trip into northern Connecticut had brought about a pleasure which he had not experienced in centuries.

He pushed the door open and glanced at the sea of shelves containing a library of long-closed cases and arrests. When he had first convinced the NYPD to employ him, he had solely been hunting for the incidents which Henry had been involved in during the city's forgotten past. Now, he had wondered how many of his own arrests and how many murders which were committed by his own hands resided in those boxes.

He crossed the room, eased around the desk, and took his seat. He studied the files on his desk. Of course, his assignments were as tedious as several occupations which he had held in the past. Yet, the position had afforded him an insight into the younger immortal which he wouldn't have otherwise possessed.

A folded, white sheet of paper shone out at Adam. He tilted his head. He hadn't noticed it before.

He picked it up and unfolded it. The moment he saw the tidy handwriting, he smiled. Why had he been surprised that Henry would retain it throughout his life?

 _"Dear friend,_

 _"I appreciate your concern for my girlfriend and myself. We had noted your worries, and we had taken it upon ourselves to notify the police. Fortunately, someone within the law enforcement community had acknowledged that your observations were merited, and the situation has been resolved."_

Adam wrinkled his eyebrows. With who had they discussed his observation of a captain in the records room? As far as he knew, Henry would have maintained limited contact with Lt. Reece as he had deemed her Jo's superior and not his. Even if he had visited the homicide division's floor several times between their first contact since Henry's memory loss and their move to The Viele, he still would not have trusted her enough to inform her of the note which the older immortal had inserted into the newspaper.

He drew a deep breath and willed himself to keep reading.

 _"You had mentioned you had felt a special kinship to me. I seem to remember you calling me while I visited a friend in the hospital and telling me that we were soul mates."_

Adam grimaced. _Nuts! He regained his full memory._

Adam squared his shoulders. He might as well discover how.

 _"In regards to our mutual condition, yes, we would idealistically have a connection. Yet, none exists. You have chosen to turn our condition into a weapon to be used against those who are defenseless against it. I refuse to walk down the same path which you have tread. I therefore have no desire to associate myself with you. Not now, and not for all of eternity."_

Adam's heart sank. He had hoped that the younger immortal would have come to consider him as an influence on his life.

His eyes landed back on Henry's words. His heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know why, but he dreaded reading them.

 _"You had vowed that you would not touch Abe, and I expect you to keep your promise. However, if you attempt to touch one hair on the heads of anyone I care about, everything which you have kept hidden will be brought to the attention of the authorities both here in the United States and abroad. If I were you, I would consider my choices very carefully, you rakefire."_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Henry"_

Adam hastily refolded the note and pressed it against his chest. He peered over his shoulder at the back room. Their muffled voices filtered through the shelves in the back.

He gulped. Had they read the letter before he had arrived, and they were plotting how to bring their discovery to Lt. Reece's attention? Were they curious about his and Henry's "mutual condition"?

His eyes darted to the shelves. Had they, or the people staffing the other shifts, peeked into one of the boxes and come across a report of him being near the vicinity of a series of gunshots and reappearing in the East River moments later? Or discovered the gun which he had used on the taxi driver before driving Henry to Pier 40? Or had they poked around in his resume and stumbled across the employment gaps which he had covered with false dates?

The air suddenly disappeared in the room. Adam drew in as much of the precious commodity as he could.

His heart racing, he shoved himself out of his seat and hastened to the door. It wasn't safe for him here. He must leave now.

He marched through the hallway. When he approached the doors leading outside, he spotted Henry's assistant and his girlfriend walking toward him.

He gulped. His first call to Henry wasn't necessarily private. How many people within the OCME had overheard them and now knew that two immortals roamed the Earth?

He brushed by the mortals, taking care to not meet their gaze, and raced through the door. He looked out at the city's skyline. How many people suspected that something was different about him? Who had seen his deaths without him realizing it? When he had come out of the water, who had spotted the long scar running from the center of his heart to his stomach and determined no one could survive it? Who would pass their stories about him down to their children and grandchildren…for generations to come?

He wove his way toward his motorcycle. The faster he could leave the city for several millennia, the better. He did not plan to learn the answers to his questions.

As for the younger immortal….

Adam straddled over the motorcycle, revved the engine, and sped off. The younger immortal had chosen to live as a mortal, and, eventually, it would cost him more pain than he could imagine. Since Henry had brushed off his offers for guidance, Adam could say that the younger immortal was no longer his responsibility. Henry would have to learn those lessons the hard way.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : According to 's "22 Insults We Should Bring Back", Mental Floss's "42 Old English Insults", and the BBC, "rakefire" is an old insult which means "someone who has overstayed their welcome". And, no, no one in the records department has read Henry's note to Adam.

Just one more chapter to tie up some loose ends. I hope you will enjoy it.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note** : Sorry this chapter is a little late. I hope you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

The relative silence of the apartment was deafening.

Sighing, Jo wandered into the living room again. Within a few hours, she would once again be in her townhouse in Washington Heights.

Tears worked their way to her eyes. She flicked them away. She wasn't sure if she could stand being back in there. It would be as quiet as this. Maybe even quieter.

She listened for the doorbell downstairs. Henry had said he should have been back about fifteen minutes ago. Did a distracted driver hit him as he tried to cross the street? Or did his concussion worsen without them or Abe realizing it, and he was lying unconscious on a sidewalk somewhere in Midtown?

She crossed her arms, drew them tight against her chest, and blew out a deep breath she didn't know she had. "Come on now, Martinez. You're worrying too much. Henry hasn't died en route to the shop. Likely, traffic's heavier between here and the subway, and he is taking it easy so he won't get himself killed. Besides, Lieu, Lucas, or Mike will call you if something were to happen to him. Abe and Fawn too if they stumbled on him while out on their morning date."

She drew comfort from the thought. Their family and their closest friends wouldn't let anything happen to him. They knew how important a normal life was to him, and, ever since he revealed his condition to each of them, they took great measures to ensure he could live it.

The clock on the mantle ticked off the seconds. Jo strolled over to the pictures sitting on Henry's end tables. She momentarily closed her eyes to block out the pain. As far as she was concerned, this was her home now. Why did she have to leave?

She picked up the picture of her and Henry in Paris. She studied the doctored photo and huffed. It was so real that it could have convince her and Henry their trip had happened. Yet, the slight differences in lighting and their somewhat altered appearances weakened her knees, forcing her to seek out the sofa before she fell.

She shook her head. She had been thinking about their trip to Paris ever since he had suggested getting lost in the city. She had always imagined all the sights that they would see and the foods that they would try. Now, she could see them spending as much time alone in their hotel room as well.

The bell downstairs rang. For a moment, she froze. After reminding herself of Henry's and Abe's return in time for lunch, she set the picture on the coffee table and looked up. "I'm in here."

A couple of minutes later, Henry appeared on the other side of the banister, rounded it, and crossed the kitchen and dining area. Her shoulders unwound. Even if he had been gone part of the day, it felt as though he had left her and hadn't returned home in years.

"How did your day go?"

He scoffed and bowed his head. "Aside from traffic being heavier in Midtown and at the Delancey station, it wasn't too bad."

As he entered the living room, he tilted his head, and his eyes searched hers. "What is it?"

She huffed. "I was just thinking…."

Jo tracked him while he approached the sofa. "About?"

She picked up the picture and showed it to him. "This."

Henry sat down next to her and gently took the frame from her hands. "You have no idea how many times I wished we had spent a few days after that case to get lost in the city."

Her eyes moistening, she turned from him and inhaled to steady her emotions. He had no idea that she had done the same.

He laid the picture onto the coffee table and smiled. "We'll have the opportunity to return to Paris soon…if you would like."

Jo cocked her head. "What are you suggesting?" Her palms grew sweaty as her mind registered what he was saying.

He bowed his head and studied his clasped hands for what felt like an eternity. When he finally looked back up, his eyes glistened, and he took a deep breath.

"Do I have your permission to seek your hand in marriage?"

"What?!" Jo's mouth snapped shut, and her heart pounded in her chest. Since Captain Sheridan breaking into the shop, Henry hadn't mentioned anything about his first attempt at a proposal. She was sure that his concussion had wiped out his memory of it.

His eyes glanced at the picture. "Over the past month, I have fallen deeper in love with you. So deep that it feels as though I am drowning in it and that I have no desire to ever surface. When we had first moved into The Viele, I had attempted to convince myself that our covers were generating the feelings of intimacy. Yet, our time together has shown me that I no longer can see my life without you."

He took another deep breath. "I went to East Harlem today to discuss my condition with your mother and to inform her of my intentions toward you. To my surprise, she took the news of my immortality very well." He scoffed. "She then proceeded to ask me if I was bringing it up because I desired to marry you. I naturally affirmed it…."

Jo's eyes roamed his face, tracing every detail and matching it to every memory that she had of him. How did the man who had been the weirdest, creepiest, most unusual person she had ever met become the man whom she could not imagine the rest of her life without? The one whom she wanted to protect, to cherish, and to love for as long as she lived?

Henry vaguely mentioned something about her mother's powers of deduction, but Jo didn't hear him. She laid her finger over his lips and locked eyes with him. His eyes widened as he fell silent.

"I haven't answered your question yet."

When she removed her finger, he leaned forward. She couldn't detect whether his chest was rising or falling with each breath.

"Yes, I want to marry you." She scoffed and smiled at him. "I was about to say yes when you tried to ask me the first time two days ago."

The corner of his eyes crinkled, and his lips parted. They tempted her to prove her consent by kissing him.

He bowed his head for a moment, gazed into her eyes, and smiled. "Let me show you why I asked to see your wedding ring."

He rose from the sofa, took her hand, and led her to the middle of the room. He dropped down to one knee.

Jo's heart nearly stopped as Henry fished a small box out of his pocket. He gingerly opened it, revealing a golden ring with a marquis-cut diamond nestled in a silver setting. An infinity symbol graced either sided of the band. Jo gasped as the overhead lights caught the diamond and caused it to shimmer.

With his free hand, Henry carefully slipped the ring that Sean had given her off her finger and inserted it into his pants pocket. He then gently removed the new one from its pillow. The moment that he slid it onto her left ring finger, her knees buckled from her quick breaths and her hammering heart.

She willed herself to breathe. Once she felt stronger, she gazed into his eyes. She had given him her heart a little over two months ago. Now, she was his forever.

He rose to his feet and embraced her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her eyes traveled his face and landed on his lips. The next thing she knew, her lips caressed his as she poured out her desire to be with him for the rest of her life.

For a moment, she thought that she heard the doorbell ring again. The idea passed through her mind unnoticed. The only thing that she had on her mind was Henry's lips caressing hers.

"You two couldn't wait until evening, huh?"

Abe's voice, his presence in the living room, and Henry pulling away from her jarred her out of her daze. She turned toward Abe's voice and glared at him. Couldn't he see that she wanted another minute alone with his father?

"Abraham…." Henry's paternal tone warned Abe of serious consequences once they returned home from her move.

She slid a hand onto his chest. Her heart ached. How she wished that she was remaining home with them instead of returning to her townhouse in Washington Heights.

"Say, kiddo." Abe stepped closer to them, his eyes on her. "Why the long face?"

She dropped her eyes and bit her lower lip to regain some control of her emotions. She looked down at the ring that now graced her finger. She smiled. One day soon, she would join the Morgan men in the place where she belonged.

Jo met Abe's gaze. "I was thinking about how homesick I've been since this whole mess started."

"Well, you'll be home as soon as we get you packed and headed back to Washington Heights."

Jo cocked her head toward Henry. His upturned eyebrows suggested that he had not mentioned his intentions for the day to his son.

She locked eyes with her fiance and debated the merits of letting Abe in on what had just happened. Henry nodded to her and back to the younger Morgan. Knowing what he was suggesting, she nodded back.

She looked over at Abe and took a deep breath. "That isn't what I meant."

Wrinkling his forehead, Abe shoved his hands in his pockets. "What do you mean?"

She sneaked another peek at the ring and smiled at him. "I miss my ability to be with you two. I miss our dinners together and your dad's and my talks afterward. I miss walking up to the door and seeing the two of you engrossed in your chess games." She chuckled. "I even miss seeing you run after a customer whom Henry's chased away because he rarely lets go of his antiques."

She shot Henry a warning glare. He had better not say a word about that if he didn't want to find himself in the East River. She agreed with his opinion of his possessions being his version of a scrapbook. But, it was best not to let Abe know that.

Abe's eyes darted from Jo to Henry. "What are you saying?"

Henry sucked in some air. He draped his arms around Jo's waist and drew her closer to him. "What would you say about Jo officially becoming a part of our family one day in the very near future?"

Abe's jaw dropped. "Are you two…?"

Henry dropped his head and softly chuckled. "Apparently, we both have been thinking about starting a life together ever since we went into hiding. We, however, didn't realize we had the same idea until moments before Captain Sheridan's attacks on us. Today, I purchased an engagement ring for her, and I popped the question merely minutes ago."

"And?" Abe stared at them and leaned slightly forward.

Jo grinned. "I said yes."

Abe chuckled. "That's great." He then embraced Jo. "It's early, but welcome to the family." He pulled away from her. "We're an insane pair—." He looked at Henry. "No offense, Pops."

Henry shook his head. "None taken."

Jo grinned. "I chose insanity a long time ago. I can handle it."

Abe motioned for her hand. "Let me see the ring."

She held out her hand so that Abe could examine it. He fished his reading glasses out of his pants pocket, slipped them on, and bent over to see it. A moment later, he whistled. He straightened up and slipped his glasses back into his pocket.

He gestured toward the ring. "I'm surprised that you could find a stone of this quality this quickly. Where did you get it? Tiffany? Cartier?"

Henry's arm found Jo's waist again. "After discussing my condition with Jo's mother and declaring my intentions toward Jo, I had gone to several jewelers, including the Tiffany and Cartier showrooms, but they didn't have what I thought Jo would like. I found this one at an independent store on Fifth Avenue and purchased it."

Jo creased her brow. When it came to matters of the heart, Henry was rarely impulsive. The few times that he was….

She glanced back at the ring again. Her cheeks flushed, opening her mouth to keep her from being overwhelmed with emotions again. She was one of those impulsive decisions. Just like Abigail and Abe were years ago.

The bell rang again and continued for several seconds. Soon, footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Moments later, Lucas emerged through the threshold, with Mike and Lieu right behind him. She grinned. Outside of her mother, her sister, and Karen, she couldn't think of anyone else better to share the news with.

"Hey!" Lucas sauntered into the room. "We thought you guys could use some help moving Jo back home."

"If anyone asks…" Lieu's voice rang out over her thoughts. "I was in the neighborhood during my lunch break and decided to check out some antiques."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "How are you holding up?"

Jo took a deep breath. "Pretty well, all things considering."

Mike met her eyes. "You know. I didn't like the idea of you using yourselves as bait. Anything could have gone wrong…."

Jo folded her arms around her and nodded. "I know."

Remembering Henry's question to her, she turned to him. Now would be a good time to tell them. When she returned to Washington Heights, she would call everyone else and tell them the good news.

Henry raised his free hand. "Jo and I have something to tell you."

Their three friends quieted down and turned to them. Henry tipped his head to her, and their eyes discussed who should tell them.

She raised her eyebrows. "You know how Henry and I have finally started dating a couple of months ago?"

They nodded. Lieu crossed her arms. "You two haven't done much of it early on, if my memory serves me correctly."

The pain of their month-long separation shifted Jo's heart. "You're right; we haven't."

She glanced around the room before coming back to them. "Anyway, things happened while we were away." She shot Lucas and Mike a look that warned them not to ask her to go into detail about it. "And Henry has just asked me to marry him."

Everyone's eyes widened. Lucas' jaw dropped while Mike's eyebrow arched.

Lucas rotated his hand in a circle. "And? Are you engaged?"

She nodded. "Yes, we are. We haven't set a date yet, but we have a lot to do before we get married." Including finding room for all of her stuff. Some of it could be sold or kept in Abe's personal warehouse, but she and Henry had to decide where she could keep the rest of her personal items until the wedding.

Lieu arched her eyebrows. "What does the ring look like?"

Jo flashed them the ring. The feel of it on her finger was amazing.

Everyone leaned over and inspected the ring, their appraisals of it overlapping each other. Lieu looked back at Henry. "Excellent choice. Cartier?"

Jo's mouth opened and closed several times. She sensed Henry raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Lieu turned back to Jo. "What? I've stepped foot in their store when I worked in Narcotics. They have some nice stuff. Too expensive for my budget, but still very nice."

Henry grinned and bowed his head. "It's from a private jeweler near Tiffany's and Cartier's stores."

Mike laid a hand on Henry's shoulder. "Congratulations, you two."

Lucas stepped forward and spread his arms. Before she could shoot him a glare, he managed to wrap them around the couple and gave them a bone-crushing hug. "This is so cool! My favorite couple is getting married!"

"Lucas!" Henry grunted. "Let go of us before I find myself in the river again."

Jo groaned. At the rate Lucas' arms was tightening around them, she could find out if she would be in the river herself. In a way, she hoped she would.

Lucas pulled back. Jo's body bounced back, but her bones needed a few more seconds to recover. She shook her head. She had no idea how Henry accepted Lucas' hugs on a fairly regular basis.

He threw his hands up. "Of course, you understand that I like what I have with Tori. Like I've said once before, I've been shipping you for a while now."

Henry tilted his head. A couple of moments later, his eyes widened as he guessed the modern meaning of the word.

"Guys?"

Abe's voice cut through the chaos. Jo peered around Lucas' arm and turned to her soon-to-be stepson.

"Does everyone want lunch? We have extra lasagna in the fridge, and it wouldn't take long to make a salad and some garlic toast."

Jo looked at the group. She couldn't think of a better way to celebrate.

Everyone else looked at each other. A moment later, they chimed in with a variation of "yes".

"Good. Let me pop it in the oven." Abe locked eyes with Jo and then his father. "Don't even think about helping out now. You two have guests." With that, he spun around and headed to the kitchen.

As she settled on the sofa next to Henry, she grinned. So much had happened during the past couple of months. Things that she had never thought to be possible once again. Soon, she would be starting a new life with him…

…and she was looking forward to it.

* * *

Balancing a coffee in her hand, Lt. Reece strolled through the hallway. She grinned. Life was good. According to Tanya and Kyle, Adam had bolted out of the records room with a panicked look on his face two days ago, and, so far, he had not returned. Henry and Jo had survived their ordeal, and they were back where they belonged. In addition, their time alone had stoked their romantic feelings for each other, and they were now happily engaged.

As Lt. Reece approached the bullpen, she pulled her lips together. The things people did for love. Upon questioning Emma, the seasoned investigator had discovered that, with the exception of Dr. Washington and Jeff's arrival at the law firm instilling a sense of fear that she would be a detective's prime suspect and later volunteering to clean Dexter's wound and change his clothes, she had confirmed everything Captain Sheridan—Cody—had confessed to them. Because of her role in the destruction of evidence, she would face two years in jail and disbarment. As for Cody, he would have to be immortal to serve all of his sentences for his crimes. And who knew the toll his imprisonment would take on Emma and Cody's relationship over the years?

Lt. Reece entered the bullpen. Jo's empty desk emerged into view. Lt. Reece shook her head and grinned. When she had first questioned Jo about her work with Henry, she had never imagined that the good cop and the ME with a sixth sense of death would one day start a new life together. How that happened, she would never know. Yet, if anyone were to ask her, she would say she was thrilled for them.

She wove her way to her office. She opened the door, walked up to her desk, took a sip of her coffee, and set the cup on the desk. She turned and stared at her chair. How would she have reacted if this had come up when she had first arrived at the precinct? Would she have stood her ground and fought like she had? Or would she have given into Captain Sheridan's pressure like Lt. Roarke before her?

She stepped up to the door, leaned against the threshold, and faced Jo's and Mike's desks. She crossed her arms over her chest. This was the finest group of people to work with. She couldn't imagine what her life would be like if she was forced to leave them behind forever.

She sighed. Those were mysteries she didn't have time to think about. Now, she needed to take the advice she had once given Henry and focus on the here and now. Which meant preparing for her role in an upcoming wedding and collecting more bets on a particular relationship.

"Lieu?"

Lt. Reece popped her head in the direction of Mike's voice. He strolled through the sea of desks toward her office.

"What is it?" Her heart pounded against her chest as she straightened her posture.

"Can I talk to you?"

"About what?"

Mike approached the door. "About some vacation time. After what we've been through the past couple of months, I think Karen and I could use one."

Lt. Reece smiled as she eased behind the door and headed for her desk. A vacation sounded good right about now. She could use one herself.

* * *

Mike opened the door to the house, sauntered into the foyer, pulled off his coat, and threw it over his arm. He breathed a sigh of relief. Traffic had been heavy on his way back to their neighborhood. He was starting to wonder if he would ever make it home in time for dinner.

He directed himself toward the sofa and tossed his coat over the back. He slid into the seat and rubbed his face. It had been one of the worst couple of days of his life. He would have been able to cope—somewhat—if Jo and Doc were to leave New York forever once they had discovered the identity of their attacker. Yet, they were insane enough to volunteer to serve as bait. When he saw Doc lying on the antique shop's floor and later heard the thud upstairs, he swore that they would bury Jo and that Doc and Abe would move by the end of the week. The sight of a wide-eyed but confused Jo and of a frying pan lying beside an unconscious Captain Sheridan on the ground did little to alleviate his fear of never seeing them again.

Doc and Jo rushing to each other's side as fast as his concussion and her cold feet would allow them returned to Mike. He smiled. Their love story had to be the craziest one he had ever heard. If he hadn't watched it grow from Jo calling Doc "the weirdest, creepiest, most unusual" man she had ever met to a happily engaged couple, he would have never believed it himself.

The smell of chicken casserole drifted into the living room. He hummed. It looks like he would be joining the rest of the family for dinner for the first time in a few days.

Karen swerved around the end table. He stood and walked to her. She snaked her arms around his neck. Although he didn't need her comfort, he soaked in her warmth to be on the safe side.

"You seem to be in a good mood." She pulled him closer to her.

"I am. I just asked Lieu about taking some time off."

"And?"

"She said yes. What do you say about us taking a vacation, starting this weekend?"

"Sounds good. I was thinking about heading out to the Hamptons."

He arched an eyebrow. "The Hamptons?" He wasn't sure if the money from the bets he had collected today would cover the expenses.

"It would be nice to rent a house and to go to the beach. The boys could swim in the swimming pool…."

 _Swimming pool_ …. "You want to check out Harold Price's house."

"I do not." Her eyes twinkled in defiance.

"We'll hunt for a rental later. Who knows? We might find one near it." He hoped so. Just seeing it up close might satisfy her curiosity. He wasn't sure if he could survive spending a week at a former murder scene.

They lingered for a moment. Mike smiled. Maybe he could talk his mom into taking the boys for a couple of days after they returned to the city. He and Karen could use some time alone.

"It sounds like 'Operation Honeymoon' was a success." She ran her fingers through the back of his hair. It took everything within him to not take her hand and guide her into the bedroom.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Jo called me this morning and told me that she and Henry are engaged. Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

Mike hung his head. "I hadn't have the time yet. Cases, you know?"

"I see." He hoped that she wouldn't ask him what he was thinking about them.

Karen's nickname for Jo and Doc's time away rolled in Mike's mind. He rested his teeth on his bottom lip. He had asked her about it earlier, but….

"How did you come up with the name 'Operation Honeymoon' for Jo and Doc's stay at The Viele?"

Before Karen could answer, a crash rang out in the kitchen. Mike groaned as he pulled away from his wife. One or both of the boys were in trouble. Somehow, their vacation couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

"Here. Try this."

Tori pointed a fork filled with her entree at Lucas' mouth. He obediently opened it and received the bite. As he chewed the morsel, he noted its texture and flavor and compared it to what he had tasted before.

He paused. An ingredient was missing.

She lifted her eyebrows. "So?"

He swallowed the mouthful. "In my opinion, it could use a bit more salt." Quite a bit more salt, if she pressed him for details. "Otherwise, it's quite good. The cream is packed with more flavor than what I had expected…."

Two pairs of eyes locked onto him. Reminding himself of where he was, he peered down at his plate and took a couple of bites of his food. Maybe he could tell Tori what he had thought about her delicious meal later.

Soft voices filled the air, and silverware clinked against the dishes. Lucas peeked around Jeff and Dr. Hawthorne. He nodded his head several times. He was glad that he took Henry up on the suggestion to use the bets to treat Tori to something nice. Never in a million years would he have dreamed of going out to a fancy restaurant like this. Even if he and Jeff got the same idea, and it turned into a double date.

He gazed past Tori for a moment. Then again, he couldn't have imagined the events of the past month either. Between his favorite couple's stalker, their cover, momentarily doubting Henry, and filling the big guy's shoe during an interview, his life was stressful. For a while, it felt as though the ground was shifting under his feet, and he had no idea if he would fly or fall to the ground like the cartoon characters he had watched when he was a kid.

He took another bite of his food. On second thought, getting the chance to sit in on interviews was fun. Maybe Lt. Reece would let him and Henry interrogate a suspect one day. The two of them together, like Friday and Gannon. Like….

"So…." Dr. Hawthorne's voice cut through Lucas' thoughts. "Do I understand right? Dr. Morgan and Detective Martinez upstairs are getting married?"

Jeff wiped his mouth and nodded. "Yes." He pointed toward Lucas. "He told me this afternoon during his lunch break."

Lucas twisted toward the other ME. "I couldn't help it. I'm so excited for them." Henry already asked if he would be a groomsmen, and he enthusiastically accepted.

"How long have they known each other?"

"Four years." Lucas and Jeff chimed together.

Lucas swallowed. He hated not telling Dr. Hawthorne it was more like nine years, with a five-year hiatus because fate had pulled them apart. If he said one word, she would start asking questions, and….

He took a deep breath. He needed a distraction.

He turned to Tori. She cocked her head almost like she was asking him if he was okay.

 _"…you understand that I like what I have with Tori…."_

Lucas gazed into her eyes. Maybe he was wrong about that. Maybe a life with her wouldn't be too bad. She was….

"Is she comfortable with Dr. Morgan's arrests for indecent exposure?"

Dr. Hawthorne's question both snapped Lucas out of his thoughts and sent his heart pounding. _Please don't ask any more questions. Please don't ask any more questions_.

He gulped and hoped he wouldn't give too many details away. "She is. I think she's even seen him naked a time or two."

He resisted the urge to grimace. That was _**way** _too much information to blurt out, even for him.

"Wh…." He cleared his throat. "Where did you hear that?"

"I overheard Dr. Washington and Dr. Vaughn talking about his arrests. It seems strange that he is arrested while he's coming out of the East River." She leaned on the table and crossed her arms. "I mean, I've heard stories about the OCME processing the bodies of those who had drowned in the river. How does he survive it? And what about the scar over his heart that I've heard the patrol officers mention? It looks…."

"…like it was fatal." Jeff completed. "Almost as if he survived, it would mean he's immortal?"

Lucas' heart felt as though it was going to race out of his chest. Who were they exactly? Were they secret government agents who wanted to take Henry away from them? Or were they mad scientists masquerading as MEs and just waiting…?

Tori took his hand in hers. His breath quickened. He almost yanked it out of hers. _No, not Tori too_.

Tori leaned over the table until her cheek brushed his. "Relax, Lucas. Jeff and I figured it out after he and Dr. Morgan spent an afternoon talking about Jeff's cousin Brent. Neither of us have mentioned our suspicions to anyone but Dr. Morgan because the idea is too crazy to others to think about."

He stared at Tori. Was his knowledge of immortality that obvious?

He glanced down at the table. Maybe he had betrayed Henry. If Dr. Hawthorne didn't believe them….

She giggled. "Yes." She looked around the dining area before turning back to them. "I can't talk about it here, but…." She lowered her voice. "…I once saw someone murder a man—not Dr. Morgan—in front of me, and I watched him disappear into thin air. He had a scar running from his heart to his stomach…."

Lucas dropped his jaw. Was it possible? Could they have three more people who not only knew Henry was immortal but also accepted him like he was?

He took another bite of his food. Henry needed to talk to them soon. Maybe he could invite them to be on his side for the wedding.

* * *

 _ **One and a Half Months Later….**_

"I can't believe we got kicked out of the theater."

Henry stared at a smiling Jo. It was a first for him as well. Throughout his life, he had been able to enjoy the entire performance. Now, thanks to a pair of fellow theatergoers who did not appreciate him whispering the lines to Jo during the performers' lyrics….

He bowed his head and grinned. "How was I supposed to know that particular version of _Twelfth Night_ was a musical? Most performances of the Bard feature the spoken word."

She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. His skin tingled under the new scar on her palm. "You couldn't help yourself."

He grinned even wider. He couldn't. Shakespeare's words had drawn him into the story since his youth.

They rounded the corner. Although the night was quite warm, Henry drew Jo closer to him. He peered up at the sky and attempted to spot the half moon through the soft glow of the streetlights. Since he had learned the location of her townhouse, how many times had he walked this path? Just to talk to her? To comfort her in her time of need? To see if she was physically well?

She tightened her grip on his waist. He gazed at her. Soon, he wouldn't need to travel across town to see her. She had already stated that she viewed the shop as her home and that she preferred to reside there after the wedding. He and Abe had spent the last few weeks rearranging their living quarters and storing her belongings into the other bedroom to make her move easier. In addition, he had recently purchased a new microwave for the nights when they desired more time together, and he wanted to surprise her with it when she moved in. That is, if Abe didn't find it nestled between his medical equipment in the basement and decided to use it first.

Her coconut infused shampoo rose above the traffic's lingering exhaust. Perhaps he should add Hawaii to their honeymoon itinerary. After all, Lt. Reece and Dr. Lippmann had granted them a month to become acquainted with each other as spouses. Two and a half weeks in Paris and Agra felt too short of time to consummate the marriage.

They arrived at her door. Henry broke away from her, placed his hand in the small of her back, and guided her up the stairs.

He studied the door. He tilted his head. The last time that he was there….

"You painted your door red again?"

Jo met his eyes. "I did." She scoffed. "The door was what prompted Sean and me to buy the house. I figured the new owner would be drawn to it as well."

Henry nodded. It had caught his attention when he had realized the paint chip on Aaron Brown's body had come from her door, and he was slightly disappointed to see that she had painted it brown to protect herself from her suspects and their associates. When they had discussed where they would live after the wedding, the memory had caused him to momentarily consider making the townhouse their family's new home.

He and Jo shifted their weights onto their feet. He gazed into her eyes. He hated to leave her side.

The diamond in her ring shimmered in his eyes. He grinned. He wouldn't have to wait too much longer before she was.

She returned his smile. "Thanks for dragging me away from the wedding planning activities. I don't think I could have spent another minute reviewing the seating chart for our reception on our rooftop terrace."

"Anytime. If you want to do it again, let me know."

"We have only a week left before the wedding. Everyone's probably taking us to our bachelor and bachelorette parties any day now."

"I can always whisk you to a private place shortly afterward if you want." He had no idea what Abe, Lucas, Mike, and Jeff—who now knew about his condition—had planned for him. Frankly, he was a little terrified to find out.

She winked at him. "I'll consider it."

He took her by the waist. Her arms snaked around his neck. He pulled her closer to him as his eyes drifted to her lips.

As they kissed each other goodnight, he drank in as much as of her love as he could. So much had happened over the past three and a half months. Things which he had never imagined happening. It seemed as though his life in general—and his new life with Jo, specifically—would be filled with love and adventure…

…and, for the first time since his youth, he was looking forward to it.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Wouldn't you know? The version of _Twelfth Night_ which was performed during the story's time was a musical production. xD (Sources: Nicole Serratone's Variety article "Off Broadway Review: 'Twelfth Night' in Central Park, Olivia Clement's "Shakespeare in the Park Continues with Musicalized Twelfth Night on Playbill). Friday and Gannon are the main pair of detectives from _Dragnet_.  
As for Emma's and Captain Sheridan's punishments, they are taken from the New York State Penal Code. I haven't tallied how much time Captain Sheridan will serve, but Lisa and another DA who is working the case have decided that they would seek consecutive sentences for his crimes. And, yes, Dr. Hawthorne had seen one of Adam's deaths.

I kept my promise of this story being shorter than "Remember You Must Die and Live." Without author's notes, "Remember You Must Die and Live" has 209,843 words and 41 chapters. This story has 140,089 words and 26 chapters. (And it took almost as long to write as well.)

I'm taking a short break from posting. I'll be back in November with a new story in time for the holidays. (I am going to go against my natural tendency and start posting in November.) To finish posting the story by the middle of January, I'll post every week. Then, in mid-February, I'll start another novel-length story I started last year. I hope you will enjoy them.


End file.
